BLIX 


BLIX 

by  FRANK  NORRIS 

Author  of  McTeague 

Moran     of     the 

Lady  Letty 

etc. 


NEW  YORK 

GROSSET   &    DUNLAP 

PUBLISHERS 


COPYRIGHT,  1899, 

BY 
FRANK  A.  MUNSEY 

COPYRIGHT,  1199, 

BY 

DOUBLEDAY  A  McCLURE  CO. 


! 

ifl 
0 

-  , 

«o 


•  BDICATKD  TO 

MY  MOTHER 


166121 


BLIX 


IT  had  just  struck  nine  from  the  cuckoo 
clock  that  hung  over  the  mantelpiece  in 
the  dining-room,  when  Victorine  brought 
in  the  halved  watermelon  and  set  it  in 
front  of  Mr.  Bessemer's  plate.  Then 
she  went  down  to  the  front  door  for  the 
damp,  twisted  roll  of  the  Sunday  morn- 
ing's paper,  and  came  back  and  rang  the 
breakfast-bell  for  the  second  time. 

As  the  family  still  hesitated  to  appear, 
she  went  to  the  bay  window  at  the  end 
of  the  room,  and  stood  there  for  a  mo- 
ment looking  out.  The  view  was  won- 
derful. The  Bessemers  lived  upon  th« 
Washington-Street  hill,  almost  at  its  very 


2  Blix 

summit,  in  a  fiat  in  the  third  story  of 
the  building.  The  contractor  had  been 
clever  enough  to  reverse  the  position  of 
kitchen  and  dining-room,  so  that  the  lat- 
ter room  was  at  the  rear  of  the  house. 
From  its  windows  one  could  command  a 
sweep  of  San  Francisco  Bay  and  the 
Contra  Costa  shore,  from  Mount  Diablo, 
along  past  Oakland,  Berkeley,  Saucelito, 
and  Mount  Tamalpais,  out  to  the  Golden 
Gate,  the  Presidio,  the  ocean,  and  even 
— on  very  clear  days — to  the  Farrallone 
islands. 

For  some  time  Victorine  stood  looking 
down  at  the  great  expanse  of  land  and 
sea,  then  faced  about  with  an  impatient 
exclamation. 

On  Sundays  all  the  week-day  rSgime 
of  the  family  was  deranged,  and  break- 
fast was  a  movable  feast,  to  be  had  any 
time  after  seven  or  before  half -past  nine. 
As  Victorine  was  pouring  the  ice-water, 
Mr.  Bessemer  himself  came  in,  and  ad- 
dressed himself  at  once  to  his  meal,  with- 


Bliz  3 

out  so  much  as  a  thought  of  waiting  for 
the  others. 

He  was  a  little  round  man.  He  wore 
a  skull-cap  to  keep  his  bald  spot  warm, 
and  read  his  paper  through  a  reading- 
glass.  The  expression  of  his  face, 
wrinkled  and  bearded,  the  eyes  shadowed 
by  enormous  gray  eyebrows,  was  that  of 
an  amiable  gorilla. 

Bessemer  was  one  of  those  men  who 
seem  entirely  disassociated  from  their 
families.  Only  on  rare  and  intense  oc- 
casions did  his  paternal  spirit  or  instincts 
assert  themselves.  At  table  he  talked 
but  little.  Though  devotedly  fond  of  his 
eldest  daughter,  she  was  a  puzzle  and  a 
stranger  to  him.  His  interests  and  hers 
were  absolutely  dissimilar.  The  chil- 
dren he  seldom  spoke  to  but  to  reprove; 
while  Howard,  the  son,  the  ten-year-old 
and  terrible  infant  of  the  household,  he 
always  referred  to  as  "that  boy." 

He  was  an  abstracted,  self-centred  old 
man,  with  but  two  hobbies — homoaopathy 


4  Blix 

and  the  mechanism  of  clocks.  But  he 
had  a  strange  way  of  talking  to  himself 
in  a  low  voice,  keeping  up  a  running, 
half-whispered  comment  upon  his  own 
doings  and  actions ;  as,  for  instance,  upon 
this  occasion :  "Nine  o'clock — the  clock's 
a  little  fast.  I  think  I'll  wind  my 
watch.  "No,  I've  forgotten  my  watch. 
Watermelon  this  morning,  eh?  Where's 
a  knife?  I'll  have  a  little  salt.  Vic- 
torine's  forgot  the  spoons — ah,  here's  a 
spoon!  No,  it's  a  knife  I  want." 

After  he  had  finished  his  watermelon, 
and  while  Victorine  was  pouring  his 
coffee,  the  two  children  came  in,  scram- 
bling to  their  places,  and  drumming  on 
the  table  with  their  knife-handles. 

The  son  and  heir,  Howard,  was  very 
much  a  boy.  He  played  baseball  too 
well  to  be  a  very  good  boy,  and  for  the 
sake  of  his  own  self-respect  maintained 
an  attitude  of  perpetual  revolt  against  his 
older  sister,  who,  as  much  as  possible,  took 
the  place  of  the  mother,  long  since  dead. 


Blix  5 

Under  her  supervision,  Howard  blacked 
his  own  shoes  every  morning  before 
breakfast,  changed  his  underclothes  twice 
a  week,  and  was  dissuaded  from  playing 
with  the  dentist's  son  who  lived  three 
doors  below  and  who  had  St.  Vitus*  dance. 
His  little  sister  was  much  more  trac- 
table. She  had  been  christened  Alberta, 
and  was  called  Snooky,  She  promised 
to  be  pretty  when  she  grew  up,  but  was 
at  this  time  in  that  distressing  transi- 
tional stage  between  twelve  and  fifteen ; 
was  long-legged,  and  endowed  with  all 
the  awkwardness  of  a  colt.  Her  shoes 
were  still  innocent  of  heels;  but  on 
those  occasions  when  she  was  allowed 
to  wear  her  tiny  first  pair  of  corsets  she 
was  exalted  to  an  almost  celestial  pitch 
of  silent  ecstasy.  The  clasp  of  the 
miniature  stays  around  her  small  body 
was  like  the  embrace  of  a  little  lover, 
and  awoke  in  her,  ideas  that  were  as 
vague,  as  immature  and  unformed,  as  the 
straight  little  figure  itself. 


6  Blix 

When  Snooky  and  Howard  had  seattd 
themselves,  but  one  chair — at  the  end 
of  the  breakfast-table,  opposite  Mr.  Bes- 
semer— remained  vacant. 

"Is  your  sister — is  Miss  Travis  going 
to  have  her  breakfast  now?  Is  she  got 
up  yet?"  inquired  Victorine  of  Howard 
and  Snooky,  as  she  pushed  the  cream 
pitcher  out  of  Howard's  reach.  It  was 
significant  of  Mr.  Bessemer's  relations 
with  his  family  that  Victorine  did  not 
address  her  question  to  him. 

"Yes,  yes,  she's  coming,"  said  both 
the  children,  speaking  together;  and 
Howard  added:  "Here  she  comes  now." 

Travis  Bessemer  came  in.  Even  in 
San  Francisco,  where  all  women  are  more 
or  less  beautiful,  Travis  passed  for  a 
beautiful  girl.  She  was  young,  but  tall 
as  most  men,  and  solidly,  almost  heavily 
built.  Her  shoulders  were  broad,  hei 
chest  was  deep,  her  neck  round  and  firm. 
She  radiated  health;  there  were  exuber- 
ance and  vitality  in  the  very  touch  of  her 


Blix  7 

foot  upon  the  carpet,  and  there  was  that 
cleanliness  about  her,  that  freshness,  that 
suggested  a  recent  plunge  in  the  surf  and 
a  "  constitutional "  along  the  beach.  One 
felt  that  here  was  stamina,  good  physical 
force,  and  fine  animal  vigor.  Her  arms 
were  large,  her  wrists  were  large,  and  her 
fingers  did  not  taper.  Her  hair  was  of  a 
brown  so  light  as  to  be  almost  yellow. 
In  fact,  it  would  be  safer  to  call  it  yel- 
low from  the  start — not  golden  nor  flaxen, 
but  plain,  honest  yellow.  The  skin  of 
her  face  was  clean  and  white,  except 
where  it  flushed  to  a  most  charming  pink 
upon  her  smooth,  cool  cheeks.  Her  lips 
were  full  and  red,  her  chin  very  round 
and  a  little  salient.  Curiously  enough, 
her  eyes  were  small  —  small,  but  of 
the  deepest,  deepest  brown,  .and  always 
twinkling  and  alight,  as  though  -she  were 
just  ready  to  smile  or  had  just  done 
smiling,  one  could  not  say  which.  And 
nothing  could  have  been  more  delightful 
than  these  sloe-brown,  glinting  little  eyes 


8  Blix 

of  hers  set  off  by  her  white  skin  and 
yellow  hair. 

She  impressed  one  as  being  a  very 
normal  girl:  nothing  morbid  about  her, 
nothing  nervous  or  false  or  overwrought. 
You  did  not  expect  to  find  her  introspec- 
tive. You  felt  sure  that  her  mental  life 
was  not  at  all  the  result  of  thoughts  and 
reflections  germinating  from  within,  but 
rather  of  impressions  and  sensations  that 
came  to  her  from  without.  There  was 
nothing  extraordinary  about  Travis.  She 
never  had  her  vagaries,  was  not  moody 
—  depressed  one  day  and  exalted  the. 
next.  She  was  just  a  good,  sweet,  nat- 
ural, healthy  -  minded,  healthy  -  bodied 
girl,  honest,  strong,  self-reliant,  and  good- 
tempered. 

Though  she  was  not  yet  dressed  foi 
church,  there  was  style  in  her  to  the 
pointed  tips  of  her  patent-leather  slippers. 
She  wore  a  heavy  black  overskirt  that 
rustled  in  delicious  fashion  over  the 
colored  silk  skirt  beneath,  and  a  white 


Blix  9 

shirt-waist,  striped  black,  and  starched 
to  a  rattling  stiffness,  Her  neck  was 
swathed  tight  and  high  with  a  broad  rib- 
bon of  white  satin,  while  around  her 
waist,  in  place  of  a  belt,  she  wore  the 
huge  dog-collar  of  a  St.  Bernard — a  chic 
little  idea  which  was  all  her  own,  and  of 
which  she  was  very  proud. 

She  was  as  trig  and  trim  and  crisp  as 
a  crack  yacht:  not  a  pin  was  loose,  not  a 
seam  that  did  not  fall  in  its  precise  right 
line;  and  with  every  movement  there 
emanated  from  her  a  barely  perceptible 
delicious  feminine  odor  —  an  odor  that 
was  in  part  perfume,  but  mostly  a  subtle, 
vague  smell,  charming  beyond  words, 
that  came  from  her  hair,  her  neck,  her 
arms — her  whole  sweet  personality.  She 
was  nineteen  years  old. 

She  sat  down  to  breakfast  and  ate 
heartily,  though  with  her  attention  di- 
vided between  Howard — who  was  atro- 
ciously bad,  as  usual  of  a  Sunday  morning 
— and  her  father's  plate,  Mr,  Bessemer 


io  filix 

was  AS  like  as  not  to  leave  the  table 
without  any  breakfast  at  all  unless  his 
fruit,  chops,  and  coffee  were  actually 
thrust  under  his  nose. 

"Papum,"  ehe  called,  speaking  clear 
and  distinct,  as  though  to  the  deaf, 
"there'c  your  coffee  there  at  your  elbow; 
be  careful,  you'll  tip  it  over.  Victorine, 
push  his  cup  farther  on  the  table.  Is  it 
strong  enough  for  you,  Papum?  * 

"Eh?  Ah,  yes — yes  —  yes,"  mur- 
mured the  old  man,  looking  vaguely 
about  him ;  "  coffee,  to  be  sure  * — and  he 
emptied  the  cup  at  a  single  draught, 
hardly  knowing  whether  it  was  coffee 
or  tea.  "Now,  I'll  take  a  roll,"  he, 
continued,  in  a  monotonous  murmur. 
"Where  are  the  rolls?  Here  they  are. 
Hot  rolls  are  bad  for  my  digestion — I 
ought  to  eat  bread.  I  think  I  eat  too 
much.  Where's  my  place  in  the  paper? 
—  always  lose  my  place  in  the  paper. 
Clever  editorials  this  fellow  Eastman 
writes,  unbiassed  by  party  prejudice  — 


Blix  ii 

unbiassed — unbiassed."  His  voice  died 
to  a  whisper. 

The  breakfast  proceeded,  Travis  super- 
vising everything  that  went  forward, 
even  giving  directions  to  Victorine  as 
to  the  hour  for  serving  dinner.  It  was 
while  she  was  talking  to  Victorine  as 
to  this  matter  that  Snooky  began  to 
whine. 

"Stop!" 

"And  tell  Maggie,"  pursued  Travis, 
"to  fricassee  her  chicken,  and  not  to 
have  it  too  well  done " 

"  Sto-o-op  1 "  whined  Snooky  again. 

"And  leave  the  heart  out  for  Papum. 
He  likes  the  heart " 

*  Sto-o-op!" 

"Unbiassed  by  prejudice,"  murmured 
Mr.  Bessemer,  "  vigorous  and  to  the  point. 
I'll  have  another  roll." 

"  Pa,  make  Howard  stop ! " 

"Howard!"  exclaimed  Travis;  "what 
is  it  now  ?  * 

"Howard's  squirting  watermelon-seeds 


12  Blix 

at  me,"  whined  Snooky,  "and  Pa  won't 
make  him  stop." 

"Oh,  I  didn't  so! "  vociferated  Howard. 
"  I  only  held  one  between  my  fingers,  and 
it  just  kind  of  shot  out." 

"You'll  come  upstairs  with  me  in  just 
five  minutes,"  announced  Travis,  "  and 
get  ready  for  Sunday-school." 

Howard  knew  that  his  older  sister's 
decisions  were  as  the  laws  of  the  Persians, 
and  found  means  to  finish  his  breakfast 
within  the  specified  time,  though  not 
without  protest.  Once  upstairs,  how- 
ever, the  usual  Sunday-morning  drama 
of  despatching  him  to  Sunday-school  in 
presentable  condition  was  enacted.  At 
every  moment  his  voice  could  be  heard 
uplifted  in  shrill  expostulation  and  de- 
bate. No,  his  hands  were  clean  enough, 
and  he  didn't  see  why  he  had  to  wear 
that  little  old  pink  tie;  and,  oh!  his  new 
shoes  were  too  tight  and  hurt  his  sore 
toe;  and  he  wouldn't,  he  wouldn't — no, 
not  if  he  were  killed  for  it,  change  his 


Blix  1 3 

shirt.  Not  for  a  moment  did  Travis  lose 
her  temper  with  him.  But  "very  well," 
she  declared  at  length,  "  the  next  time  she 
saw  that  little  Miner  girl  she  would  tell 
her  that  he  had  said  she  was  his  beau- 
heart.  Now  would  he  hold  still  while 
she  brushed  his  hair?  * 

At  a  few  minutes  before  eleven  Travis 
and  her  father  went  to  church.  They  were 
Episcopalians,  and  for  time  out  of  mind 
had  rented  a  half -pew  in  the  church  of 
their  denomination  on  California  Street, 
not  far  from  Chinatown.  By  noon  the 
family  reassembled  at  dinner-table,  where 
Mr.  Bessemer  ate  his  chicken -heart  — 
after  Travis  had  thrice  reminded  him  of 
it — and  expressed  himself  as  to  the  ser- 
mon and  the  minister's  theology :  some- 
times to  his  daughter  and  sometimes  to 
himself. 

After  dinner  Howard  and  Snooky  fore- 
gathered in  the  nursery  with  their  be- 
loved lead  soldiers;  Travis  went  to  her 
room  to  write  letters;  and  Mr.  Bessenur 


14  Blix 

eat  in  the  bay  window  of  the  dining- 
room  reading  the  paper  from  end  to  end. 

At  five  Travis  bestirred  herself.  It 
was  Victorine's  afternoon  out.  Travis 
set  the  table,  spreading  a  cover  of  blue 
denim  edged  with  white  braid,  which 
showed  off  the  silver  and  the  set  of  delft 
—  her  great  and  never-ending  joy  —  to 
great  effect.  Then  she  tied  her  apron 
about  her,  and  went  into  the  kitchen  to 
make  the  mayonnaise  dressing  for  the 
potato  salad,  to  slice  the  ham,  and  to 
help  the  cook  (a  most  inefficient  Irish 
person,  taken  on  only  for  that  month 
during  the  absence  of  the  family's  be- 
loved and  venerated  Sing  Wo)  in  the 
matter  of  preparing  the  Sunday-evening 
tea. 

Tea  was  had  at  half -past  five.  Never 
in  the  history  of  the  family  had  its  m&nu 
varied :  cold  ham,  potato  salad,  pork  and 
beans,  canned  fruit,  chocolate,  and  the 
inevitable  pitcher  of  ice-water. 

In  the  absence  of  Victorine,  Maggie 


Blix  15 

waited  on  the  table,  very  uncomfortable 
in  her  one  good  dress  and  stiff  white 
apron.  She  stood  off  from  the  table, 
making  awkward  dabs  at  it  from  time  to 
time.  In  her  excess  of  deference  she 
developed  a  clumsiness  that  was  beyond 
all  expression.  She  passed  the  plates 
upon  the  wrong  side,  and  remembered 
herself  with  a  broken  apology  at  inop- 
portune moments.  She  dropped  a  spoon, 
she  spilt  the  ice- water.  She  handled  the 
delft  cups  and  platters -with  an  exagger- 
ated solicitude,  as  though  they  were  glass 
bombs.  She  brushed  the  crumbs  into 
their  laps  instead  of  into  the  crumb-tray, 
and  at  last,  when  she  had  set  even  Travis' 
placid  nerves  in  a  jangle,  was  dismissed 
to  the  kitchen,  and  retired  with  a  gasp 
of  unspeakable  relief. 

Suddenly  there  came  a  prolonged  trill- 
ing of  the  electric  bell,  and  Howard 
flashed  a  grin  at  Travis.  Snooky  jumped 
up  and  pushed  back,  crying  out:  "I'll 
go!  I'll  go  I* 


1 6  Blix 

Mr.  Bessemer  glanced  nervously  at 
Travis.  "That's  Mr.  Elvers,  isn't  it, 
daughter?*  Travis  smiled.  "Well,  I 

think  I'll—  I  think  I'd  better "  he 

began. 

"No,"  said  Travis,  "I  don't  want  you 
to,  Papum ;  you  sit  right  where  you  are. 
How  absurd ! " 

The  old  man  dropped  obediently  back 
into  his  seat. 

"That's  all  right,  Maggie,"  said  Travis 
as  the  cook  reappeared  from  the  pantry. 
"Snooky  went." 

"Huh!"  exclaimed  Howard,  his  grin 
widening.  "  Huh !  " 

"And  remember  one  thing,  Howard," 
remarked  Travis  calmly;  "don't  you  ever 
again  ask  Mr.  Eivers  for  a  nickel  to  put 
in  your  bank." 

Mr  Bessemer  roused  up.  "Did  that 
boy  do  that? "  he  inquired  sharply  of 
Travis. 

"Well,  well,  he  won't  do  it  again," 
said  Travis  soothingly.  The  old  man 


Blix  17 

glared  for  an  instant  at  Howard,  who 
shifted  uneasily  in  his  seat.  But  mean- 
while Snooky  had  clamored  down  to  the 
outside  door,  and  before  anything  further 
could  be  said  young  Eivers  came  into 
the  dining-room. 


FOE  some  reason,  never  made  suffi- 
ciently clear,  Rivers'  parents  had  handi- 
capped him  from  the  baptismal  font  with 
the  praenomen  of  Conde",  which,  how- 
ever, upon  Anglo-Saxon  tongues,  had 
been  promptly  modified  to  Condy,  or 
even,  amongst  his  familiar  and  intimate 
friends,  to  Conny.  Asked  as  to  his 
birthplace  —  for  no  Californian  assumes 
that  his  neighbor  is  bom  in  the  State — 
Condy  was  wont  to  reply  that  he  was 
"bawn  Vrais"  in  Chicago;  "but,"  he 
always  added,  "I  couldn't  help  that,  you 
know."  His  people  had  come  West  in 
the  early  eighties,  just  in  time  to  bury 
the  father  in  alien  soil.  Condy  was  an 
only  child.  He  was  educated  at  the 
State  University,  had  a  finishing  year  at 
Yale,  and  a  few  months  after  his  return 


Blix  19 

home  was  taken  on  the  staff  of  the  San 
Francisco  Daily  Times  as  an  associate 
editor  of  its  Sunday  supplement.  For 
Condy  had  developed  a  taste  and  talent 
in  the  matter  of  writing.  Short  stories 
were  his  mania.  He  had  begun  by  an 
inoculation  of  the  Kipling  virus,  had 
suffered  an  almost  fatal  attack  of  Hard- 
ing Davis,  and  had  even  been  affected  by 
Maupassant.  He  *  went  in  "  for  accuracy 
of  detail ;  held  that  if  one  wrote  a  story 
involving  firemen  one  should  have,  or 
seem  to  have,  every  detail  of  the  de- 
partment at  his  fingers'  ends,  and  should 
*  bring  in"  to  the  tale  all  manner  of 
technical  names  and  cant  phrases. 

Much  of  his  work  on  the  Sunday  sup- 
plements of  The  Times  was  of  the  hack 
order  —  special  articles,  write-ups,  and 
interviews.  About  once  a  month,  how- 
ever, he  wrote  a  short  story,  and  of  late, 
now  that  he  was  convalescing  from  Mau- 
passant and  had  'begun  to  be  somewhat 
himself,  these  stories  had  improved  in 


2o  Blix 

quality,  and  one  or  two  had  even  been 
copied  in  the  Eastern  journals.  He 
earned  $100  a  month. 

When  Snooky  had  let  him  in,  Rivers 
dashed  up  the  stairs  of  the  Bessemers' 
flat,  two  at  a  time,  tossed  his  stick  in- 
to a  porcelain  cane-rack  in  the  hall, 
wrenched  off  his  overcoat  with  a  sin- 
gle movement,  and  precipitated  himself, 
panting,  into  the  dining-room,  tugging 
at  his  gloves. 

He  was  twenty-eight  years  old — nearly 
ten  years  older  than  Travis;  tall  and 
somewhat  lean;  his  face  smooth-shaven 
and  pink  all  over,  as  if  he  had  just  given 
it  a  violent  rubbing  with  a  crash  towel. 
Unlike  most  writing  folk,  he  dressed 
himself  according  to  prevailing  custom. 
But  Condy  overdid  the  matter.  His 
scarfs  and  cravats  were  too  bright,  his 
colored  shirt-bosoms  were  too  broadly 
barred,  his  waistcoats  too  extreme. 
Even  Travis,  as  she  rose  to  his  abrupt 
entrance,  told  herself  that  of  a  Sunday 


Blix  21 

evening  a  pink  shirt  and  scarlet  tie  were 
a  combination  hardly  to  be  forgiven. 

Condy  shook  her  hand  in  both  of  his, 
then  rushed  over  to  Mr.  Bessemer,  ex- 
claiming between  breaths:  "Don't  get 
up,  sir — don't  think  of  it !  Heavens !  I'm 
disgustingly  late.  You're  all  through. 
My  watch — this  beastly  watch  of  mine — 
I  can't  imagine  how  I  came  to  be  so 
late.  You  did  quite  right  not  to  wait." 

Then  as  his  morbidly  keen  observation 
caught  a  certain  look  of  blankness  on 
Travis'  face,  and  his  rapid  glance  noted 
no  vacant  chair  at  table,  he  gave  a  quick 
gasp  of  dismay. 

"  Heavens  and  earth  1  didn't  you  expect 
me?  *  he  cried.  "  I  thought  you  said— I 
thought — I  must  have  forgotten — I  must 
have  got  it  mixed  up  somehow.  What  a 
hideous  mistake,  what  a  blunder  I  What 
a  fool  I  am !  " 

He  dropped  into  a  chair  against  the 
wall  and  mopped  his  forehead  with  a 
blue-bordered  handkerchief 


22  Blix 

"Well,  what  difference  does  it  make, 
Condy?"  said  Travis  quietly.  Til  put 
another  place  for  you." 

*  No,  no  I  *  he  vociferated,  jumping  up. 
"I  won't  hear  of  it,  I  won't  permit  it! 
You'll  think  I  did  it  on  purpose !  * 

Travis  ignored  his  interference,  and 
made  a  place  for  him  opposite  the  chil- 
dren, and  had  Maggie  make  some  more 
chocolate. 

Condy  meanwhile  covered  himself  with 
opprobrium. 

"And  all  this  trouble — I  always  make 
trouble  everywhere  I  go.  Always  a 
round  man  in  a  square  hole,  or  a  square 
man  in  a  round  hole." 

He  got  up  and  sat  down  again,  crossed 
and  recrossed  his  legs,  picked  up  little 
ornaments  from  the  mantelpiece,  and 
replaced  them  without  consciousness  of 
what  they  were,  and  finally  broke  the 
crystal  of  his  watch  as  he  was  resetting 
it  by  the  cuckoo  clock. 

" Hello  1"      he    exclaimed     suddenly; 


Blix  23 

'where  did  you  get  that  clock?  Where 
did  you  get  that  clock?  That's  new  to 
me.  Where  did  that  come  from? " 

"  That  cuckoo  clock  ? "  inquired  Travis, 
with  a  stare.  "  Condy  Eivers,  you've 
been  here  and  in  this  room  at  least  twice 
a  week  for  the  last  year  and  a  half,  and 
that  clock,  and  no  other,  has  always 
hung  there." 

But  already  Condy  had  forgotten  or 
lost  interest  in  the  clock. 

"Is  that  so?  is  that  so?  *  he  murmured 
absent-mindedly,  seating  himself  at  the 
table. 

Mr.  Bessemer  was  murmuring :  *  That 
clock's  a  little  fast.  I  cannot  make  that 
clock  keep  time.  Victorine  has  lost  the 
key.  I  have  to  wind  it  with  a  monkey- 
wrench.  Now  I'll  try  some  more  beans. 
Maggie  has  put  in  too  much  pepper.  I'll 
have  to  have  a  new  key  made  to- 
morrow." 

"Hey?  Yes — yes.  Is  that  so?"  an- 
swered Condy  Rivers,  bewildered,  wish- 


24  Blix 

ing  to  be  polite,  yet  unable  to  follow  the 
old  man's  mutterings. 

"He's  not  talking  to  you,"  remarked 
Travis,  without  lowering  her  voice. 
"You  know  how  Papum.  goes  on.  He 
won't  hear  a  word  you  say.  Well,  I 
read  your  story  in  this  morning's  Times." 

A  few  moments  later,  while  Travis 
and  Condy  were  still  discussing  this 
story,  Mr.  Bessemer  rose.  "Well,  Mr. 
Rivers,"  he  announced,  "I  guess  I'll  say 
good-night.  Come,  Snooky." 

"  Yes,  take  her  with  you,  Papum,  *  said 
Travis.  *  She' 11  go  to  sleep  on  the  lounge 
here  if  you  don't.  Howard,  have  you 
got  your  lessons  for  to-morrow?  * 

It  appeared  that  he  had  not.  Snooky 
whined  to  stay  up  a  little  longer,  but  at 
last  consented  to  go  with  her  father. 
They  all  bade  Condy  good-night  and 
took  themselves  away,  Howard  lingering 
a  moment  in  the  door  in  the  hope  of  the 
nickel  he  dared  not  ask  for.  Maggie  re- 
appeared to  clear  away  the  table. 


Blix  25 

'Let's  go  in  the  parlor,"  suggested 
Travis,  rising.  "Don't  you  want  to?  " 

The  parlor  was  the  front  room  over- 
looking the  street,  and  was  reached  by 
the  long  hall  that  ran  the  whole  length 
of  the  flat,  passing  by  the  door  of  each 
one  of  its  eight  rooms  in  turn. 

Travis  preceded  Condy,  and  turned  up 
one  of  the  burners  in  a  colored  globe  of 
the  little  brass  chandelier. 

The  parlor  was  a  small  affair,  peopled 
by  a  family  of  chairs  and  sofas  robed  in 
white  druggets.  A  gold-and-white  effect 
had  been  striven  for  throughout  the  room. 
The  walls  had  been  tinted  instead  of 
papered,  and  bunches  of  hand-painted 
pink  flowers  tied  up  with  blue  ribbons 
straggled  from  one  corner  of  the  ceil- 
ing. Across  one  angle  of  the  room 
straddled  a  brass  easel  upholding  a 
crayon  portrait  of  Travis  at  the  age  of 
nine,  "enlarged  from  a  photograph."  A 
yellow  drape  ornamented  one  corner 
of  the  frame,  while  another  drape  of 


26  Blix 

blue  depended  from  one  end  of  the 
mantelpiece. 

The  piano,  upon  which  nobody  ever 
played,  balanced  the  easel  in  an  opposite 
corner.  Over  the  mantelpiece  hung  in  a 
gilded  frame  a  steel  engraving  of  Priscilla 
and  John  Alden ;  and  on  the  mantel  itself 
two  bisque  figures  of  an  Italian  fisher  boy 
and  girl  kept  company  with  the  clock,  a 
huge  timepiece,  set  in  a  red  plush  palette, 
that  never  was  known  to  go.  But  at  the 
right  of  the  fireplace,  and  balancing  the 
tuft  of  pampa-grass  to  the  left,  was  an 
inverted  section  of  a  sewer-pipe  painted 
blue  and  decorated  with  daisies.  Into  it 
was  thrust  a  sheaf  of  cat-tails,  gilded, 
and  tied  with  a  pink  ribbon. 

Travis  dropped  upon  the  shrouded  sofa, 
and  Condy  set  himself  carefully  down  on 
one  of  the  frail  chairs  with  its  spindling 
golden  legs,  and  they  began  to  talk. 

Condy  had  taken  her  to  the  theatre 
the  Monday  night  of  that  week,  as  had 
been  his  custom  ever  since  he  had  known 


Blix  a/ 

her  well,  and  there  was  something  left  for 
them  to  say  on  that  subject.  But  in  ten 
minutes  they  had  exhausted  it.  An  en- 
gagement of  a  girl  known  to  both  of  them 
had  just  been  announced.  Condy  brought 
that  up,  and  kept  conversation  going  for 
another  twenty  minutes,  and  then  filled 
in  what  threatened  to  be  a  gap  by  telling 
her  stories  of  the  society  reporters,  and 
how  they  got  inside  news  by  listening  to 
telephone  party  wires  for  days  at  a  time. 
Travis'  condemnation  of  this  occupied 
another  five  or  ten  minutes ;  and  so  what 
with  this  and  with  that  they  reached 
nine  o'clock.  Then  decidedly  the  even- 
ing began  to  drag.  It  was  too  early  to 
go.  Condy  could  find  no  good  excuse 
for  taking  himself  away,  and,  though 
Travis  was  good-natured  enough,  and  met 
him  more  than  half  way,  their  talk  lapsed, 
and  lapsed,  and  lapsed.  The  breaks  be- 
came more  numerous  and  lasted  longer. 
Condy  began  to  wonder  if  he  was  boring 
her  No  sooner  had  the  suspicion  en- 


28  Blix 

tered  his  head  than  it  hardened  into  a 
certainty,  and  at  once  what  little  fluency 
and  freshness  he  yet  retained  forsook  him 
on  the  spot.  What  made  matters  worse 
was  his  recollection  of  other  evenings 
that  of  late  he  had  failed  in  precisely  the 
same  manner.  Even  while  he  struggled 
to  save  the  situation  Condy  was  wonder- 
ing if  they  two  were  talked  out — if  they 
had  lost  charm  for  each  other.  Did  he 
not  know  Travis  through  and  through  by 
now — her  opinions,  her  ideas,  her  con- 
victions? Was  there  any  more  freshness 
in  her  for  him?  Was  their  little  flirta- 
tion of  the  last  eighteen  months,  charm- 
ing as  it  had  been,  about  to  end?  Had 
they  played  out  the  play,  had  they  come 
to  the  end  of  each  other's  resources  ?  He 
had  never  considered  the  possibility  of 
this  before;  but  all  at  once  as  he  looked 
at  Travis — looked  fairly  into  her  little 
brown-black  eyes — it  was  borne  in  upon 
him  that  she  was  thinking  precisely  the 
same  thing. 


Blix  29 

Condy  Rivers  had  met  Travis  at  a 
dance  a  year  and  a  half  before  this,  and, 
because  she  was  so  very  pretty,  so  unaf- 
fected, and  so  good-natured,  had  found 
means  to  see  her  three  or  four  times  a 
week  ever  since.  They  two  "  went  out " 
not  a  little  in  San  Francisco  society,  and 
had  been  in  a  measure  identified  with 
what  was  known  as  the  Younger  Set; 
though  Travis  was  too  young  to  come  out, 
and  Eivers  too  old  to  feel  very  much  at 
home  with  girls  of  twenty  and  boys  of 
eighteen. 

They  had  known  each  other  in  the 
conventional  way  (as  conventionality 
goes  in  San  Francisco) ;  during  the  sea- 
son Rivers  took  her  to  the  theatres 
Monday  nights,  and  called  regularly 
Wednesdays  and  Sundays.  Then  they 
met  at  dances,  and  managed  to  be  invited 
to  the  same  houses  for  teas  and  dinners. 
They  had  flirted  rather  desperately,  and 
at  times  Condy  even  told  himself  that  he 
loved  this  girl  so  much  younger  than  he 


30  Blix 

—  this   girl  with  the  smiling  eyes  and 
robust  figure  and  yellow  hair,  who  was  so 
frank,  so  straightforward,  and  so  wonder- 
fully pretty. 

But  evidently  they  had  come  to  the 
last  move  in  the  game;  and  as  Condy 
reflected  that  after  all  he  had  never 
known  the  real  Travis,  that  the  girl 
whom  he  told  himself  he  knew  through 
and  through  was  only  the  Travis  of 
dinner  parties  and  afternoon  functions, 
he  was  suddenly  surprised  to  experience 
a  sudden  qualm  of  deep  and  genuine  re- 
gret. He  had  never  been  near  to  her, 
after  all.  They  were  as  far  apart  as 
when  they  had  first  met.  And  yet  ho 
knew  enough  of  her  to  know  that  she  was 
"worthwhile."  He  had  had  experience 

—  all  the  experience  he  wanted  —  with 
other  older  women  and  girls  of  society. 
They  were  sophisticated,  they  were  all  a 
little  tired,  they  had  run  the  gamut  of 
amusements  —  in    a    word,    they    were 
jaded.     But  Travis,  this  girl  of  nineteen. 


Blix  31 

who  was  not  yet  even  a  debutante,  had 
been  fresh  and  unspoiled,  had  been  new 
and  strong  and  young. 

*  Of  course  you  may  call  it  what  you 
like.    He  was  nothing  more  nor  less  than 
intoxicated — yes,  drunk." 

*  Hah  I     who — what — wh — what    are 
you  talking  about? "  gasped  Condy,  sit- 
ting bolt  upright. 

"  Jack  Carter, "  answered  Travis.  "  No, " 
she  added,  shaking  her  head  at  him  help- 
lessly, "he  hasn't  been  listening  to  a 
word.  I'm  talking  about  Jack  Carter 
and  the  'Saturday  Evening'  last  night." 

"No,  no,  I  haven't  heard.  Forgive 
me ;  I  was  thinking — thinking  of  some- 
thing else.  Who  was  drunk?  * 

Travis  paused  a  moment,  settling  her 
side-combs  in  her  hair;  then: 

*  If  you  will  try  to  listen,  I'll  tell  it 
all  over  again,  because  it's  serious  with 
me,  and  I'm  going  to  take  a  very  decided 
stand  about  it.     You  know,"  she  went 
an — "  you  know  what  the  'Saturday  Even 


32  Blix 

ing '  is.  Plenty  of  the  girls  who  are  not 
'out'  belong,  and  a  good  many  of  last 
year's  debutantes  come,  as  well  as  the 
older  girls  of  three  or  four  seasons'  stand- 
ing. You  could  call  it  representative, 
couldn't  you?  Well,  they  always  serve 
punch;  and  you  know  yourself  that  you 
have  seen  men  there  who  have  taken 
more  than  they  should." 

*  Yes,  yes,"  admitted  Condy .  "  I  know 
Carter  and  the  two  Catlin  boys  always 
do." 

"  It  gets  pretty  bad  sometimes,  doesn't 
it?  *  she  said. 

"It  does,  it  does, — and  it's  shameful. 
But  most  of  the  girls — most  of  them — 
don't  seem  to  mind." 

Miss  Bessemer  stiffened  a  bit.  "  There 
are  one  01  two  girls  that  do,"  she  said 
quietly.  "Frank  Catlin  had  the  decency 
to  go  home  last  night,"  she  continued; 
"  and  his  brother  wasn't  any  worse  than 
Casual.  But  Jack  Carter  must  have  been 
arinkmg  before  he  came  He  was  very 


33 

bad  indeed — as  bad,"  she  said  between 
her  teeth,  "  as  he  could  be  and  yet  walk 
straight.  As  you  say,  most  of  the  girls 
don't  mind.  They  say,  'It's  only  John- 
nie Carter;  what  do  you  expect?'  But 
one  of  the  girls — you  know  her,  Laurie 
Flagg — cut  a  dance  with  him  last  night 
and  told  him  exactly  why.  Of  course 
Carter  was  furious.  He  was  sober 
enough  to  think  he  had  been  insulted; 
and  what  do  you  suppose  he  did  ?  * 

"What?  what?"  exclaimed  Condy, 
breathless,  leaning  toward  her. 

"Went  about  the  halls  and  dressing- 
rooms  circulating  some  dirty  little  lie 
about  Laurie.  Actually  trying  to — to  * — 
Travis  hesitated  —  "to  make  a  scandal 
about  her.  * 

Condy  bounded  in  his  seat  *  Beast, 
cad,  swine !  "  he  exclaimed. 

"I  didn't  think,"  said  Travis,  "that 
Carter  would  so  much  as  dare  to  ask  me 
to  dance  with  him " 

*  Did  he?  did— did " 


34  Br 

*  Wait, "  she  interrupted.  "  So  I  wasn'  t 
at  all  prepared  for  what  happened.  Dur- 
ing the  german,  before  I  knew  it,  there 
he  was  in  front  of  me.  It  was  a  break, 
and  he  wanted  it.  I  hadn't  time  to 
think.  The  only  idea  I  had  was  that  if 
I  refused  him  he  might  tell  some  dirty 
little  lie  about  me.  I  was  all  confused — 
mixed  up.  I  felt  just  as  though  it  were 
a  snake  that  I  had  to  humor  to  get  rid 
of.  I  gave  him  the  break. " 

Condy  sat  speechless.  Suddenly  he 
arose. 

"Well,  now,  let's  see,"  he  began, 
speaking  rapidly,  his  hands  twisting  and 
untwisting  till  the  knuckles  cracked. 
"  Now,  let's  see.  You  leave  it  to  me.  I 
know  Carter.  He's  going  to  be  at  a  stag 
dinner  where  I  am  invited  to-morrow 
night,  and  I— I ' 

"No,  you  won't,  Condy,*  said  Travis 
placidly.  "  You'll  pay  no  attention  to  it, 
and  I'll  tell  you  why.  Suppose  you 
should  make  a  scene  with  Mr.  Carter — T 


35 

don't  know  how  men  settle  these  things. 
Well,  it  would  be  told  in  all  the  clubs 
and  in  all  the  newspaper  offices  that  two 
men  had  quarrelled  over  a  girl ;  and  my 
name  is  mentioned,  discussed,  and  handed 
around  from  one  crowd  of  men  to  another, 
from  one  club  to  another;  and  then,  of 
course,  the  papers  take  it  up.  By  that 
time  Mr.  Carter  will  have  told  his  side 
of  the  story  and  invented  another  dirty 
little  lie,  and  I'm  the  one  who  suffers  the 
most  in  the  end.  And  remember,  Condy, 
that  I  haven't  any  mother  in  such  an 
affair,  not  even  an  older  sister.  No, 
we'll  just  let  the  matter  drop.  It  would 
be  more  dignified  anyhow.  Only  I  have 
made  up  my  mind  what  I  am  going  to  do  * 

"What's  that?" 

*  I'm  not  coming  out.  If  that's  the 
sort  of  thing  one  has  to  put  up  with  in 
society,* — Travis  drew  a  little  line  on  the 
sofa  at  her  side  with  her  finger-tip, — "  I 
am  going  to — stop — right — there  It's 
not " — Miss  Bessemer  stiffened  again-— 


&  Blix 

*  that  I'm  afraid  of  Jack  Carter  and  his 
dirty  stories;  I  simply  don't  want  to 
know  the  kind  of  people  who  have  made 
Jack  Carter  possible.  The  other  girls 
don't  mind  it,  nor  many  men  besides 
you,  Condy ;  and  I'm  not  going  to  be  as- 
sociated with  people  who  take  it  as  a 
joke  for  a  man  to  come  to  a  function 
drunk.  And  as  for  having  a  good  time, 
I'll  find  my  amusements  somewhere  else. 
I'll  ride  a  wheel,  take  long  walks,  study 
something.  But  as  for  leading  the  life  of  a 
society  girl — no !  And  whether  I  have  a 
good  time  or  not,  I'll  keep  my  own  self- 
respect.  At  least  I'll  never  have  to  dance 
with  a  drunken  man.  I  won't  have  to 
humiliate  myself  like  that  a  second  time." 

'  But  I  presume  you  will  still  continue 
to  go  out  somewhere,'  protested  Condy 
Rivers. 

She  shook  her  head, 

*  I  have  thought  it  all  over,  and  I've 
talked  about  it  with  Papum.  There's 
no  half  way  about  it  The  only  way  to 


Blix  37 

f»top  is  to  stop  short  Just  this  afternoon 
I  ve  regretted  three  functions  for  next 
week,  and  I  shall  resign  from  the  'Satur- 
day Evening.'  Oh,  it's  not  the  Jack 
Carter  affair  alone!"  she  exclaimed; 
'the  whole  thing  tires  me.  Mind, 
Condy,"  she  concluded,  Tm  not  going 
to  break  with  it  because  I  have  any 
'purpose  in  life,'  or  that  sort  of  thing.  I 
want  to  have  a  good  time,  and  I'm  going 
to  see  if  I  can't  have  it  in  my  own  way. 
If  the  kind  of  thing  that  makes  Jack 
Carter  possible  is  conventionality,  then 
I'm  done  with  conventionality  for  good. 
I  am  going  to  try,  from  this  time  on,  to 
be  just  as  true  to  myself  as  I  can  be.  I 
am  going  to  be  sincere,  and  not  pretend 
to  like  people  and  things  that  I  don't 
like ;  and  I'm  going  to  do  the  things  that 
I  like  to  do — just  so  long  as  they  are  the 
things  a  good  girl  can  do.  See,  Condy  ?  * 
"You're  fine,"  murmured  Condy, 
breathless.  "You're  fine  as  gold,  Travis, 
ar^  I — I  love  you  all  the  better  for  it  * 


166121 


38  Blix 

"Ah,  now  f  "  exclaimed  Travis,  with  a 
brusque  movement,  "  there's  another  thing 
we  must  talk  about.  No  more  foolishness 
between  us.  We've  had  a  jolly  little 
flirtation,  I  know,  and  it's  been  good  fun 
while  it  lasted.  I  know  you  like  me, 
and  you  know  that  I  like  you ;  but  as  for 
loving  each  other,  you  know  we  don't. 
Yes,  you  say  that  you  love  me  and  that 
I'm  the  only  girl.  That's  part  of  the 
game.  I  can  play  it" — her  little  eyes 
began  to  dance — "  quite  as  well  as  you. 
But  it's  playing  with  something  that's 
quite  too  serious  to  be  played  with — after 
all,  isn't  it,  now?  It's  insincere,  and, 
as  1  tell  you,  from  now  on  I'm  going  to 
be  as  true  and  as  sincere  and  as  honest 
as  I  can." 

"But  I  tell  you  that  I  do  love  you," 
protested  Condy,  trying  to  make  the 
words  ring  true. 

Travis  looked  about  the  room  an  in- 
etant  as  if  in  deliberation ;  then  abruptly : 
*  Ah '  what  am  T  going  to  do  with  such 


Blix  39 

a  boy  aa  you  are,  after  all — a  great  big, 
overgrown  boy?  Condy  Rivers,  loe<  at 
me  straight  in  the  eye.  Tell  me,  do  you 
honestly  love  me?  You  know  what  1 
mean  when  T  say  'love.'  Do  you  love 
me?" 

"No,  I  don't!"  he  exclaimed  blankly, 
as  though  he  had  just  discovered  the  fact- 

"  There  I*  declared  Travis  —  "and  I 
don't  love  you."  They  both  began  to 
laugh. 

"Now,"  added  Travis,  "we  don't  need 
to  have  the  burden  and  trouble  of  keep- 
ing up  the  pretences  any  more.  We  un- 
derstand each  other,  don't  we?  " 

"This  is  queer  enough,"  said  Condy 
drolly. 

"  But  isn't  it  an  improvement? " 

Condy  scoured  his  head. 

"  Tell  me  the  truth,"  she  insisted ;  " you 
be  sincere." 

"I  do  believe  it  is.  Why  — why  — 
Travis  —  by  Jingo!  Travis,  I  think  Fm 
going  to  like  you  better  than  ever  now  * 


40  Blix 

'  Nevei  inind.     Is  it  un  agreement!  * 

'  What  is?' 

"  That  we  don't  pretend  to  love  each 
other  any  more?  * 

"  All  right — yes — you're  right ;  because 
the  moment  I  began  to  love  you  I  should 
like  you  BO  much  less." 

She  put  out  her  hand.  "That's  an 
agreement,  then.* 

Condy  took  her  hand  in  his.  "Yes, 
it's  an  agreement."  But  when,  as  had 
been  his  custom,  he  made  as  though  to 
kiss  her  hand,  Travis  drew  it  quickly 
away. 

*  No !  no  I "  she  said  firmly,  smiling  for 
all  that — "no  more  foolishness.* 

"But — but,"  he  protested,  "it's  not  so 
radical  as  that,  is  it?  You're  not  going 
to  overturn  such  time-worn,  time-honored 
customs  as  that?  Why,  this  is  a  regular 
rebellion." 

"  No,  sire,*  quoted  Travis,  trying  not 
Co  laugh,  "it  is  a  revolution." 


ni 

ALTHOUGH  Monday  was  practically  a 
holiday  for  the  Sunday-supplement  fitaft 
of  The  Times,  Condy  Rivers  made  a  point 
to  get  down  to  the  office  betimes  the  nexv 
morning.  There  were  reasons  why  a  cer- 
tain article  descriptive  of  a  great  whale- 
back  steamer  taking  on  grain  for  famine- 
stricken  India  should  be  written  that 
day,  and  Eivers  wanted  his  afternoon 
free  in  order  to  go  to  Laurie  Flagg's 
ooming-out  tea. 

But  as  he  came  into  his  room  at  The 
Times  office,  which  he  shared  with  the 
exchange  and  sporting  editors,  and  settled 
himself  at  his  desk,  he  suddenly  remem- 
bered that,  under  the  new  order  of  things, 
he  need  not  expect  to  see  Travis  at  the 


"  Well,"  he  muttered,  "  maybe  it  doesn't 
make  so  much  difference,  after  all     She 


42  Blix 

was  a  corking  fine  girl,  but — might  as 
well  admit  it — the  play  is  played  out. 
Of  course  I  don't  love  her — any  more 
than  she  loves  me.  I'll  see  less  and  less 
of  her  now.  It's  inevitable,  and  after  a 
while  we'll  hardly  even  meet.  In  a  way, 
it's  a  pity ;  but  of  course  one  has  to  be 
sensible  about  these  things.  .  .  ,  Well, 
this  whaleback  now.* 

He  rang  up  the  Chamber  of  Commerce, 
and  found  out  that  the  City  of  Everett, 
which  was  the  whaleback's  name,  was  at 
the  Mission- Street  wharf.  This  made  it 
possible  for  him  to  write  the  article  in 
two  ways.  He  either  could  fake  his 
copy  from  a  clipping  en  the  subject 
which  the  exchange  editor  had  laid  on 
his  desk,  or  he  could  go  down  in  person 
to  the  wharf,  interview  the  captain,  and 
inspect  the  craft  for  himself.  The  former 
was  the  short  and  easy  method.  The 
latter  was  more  troublesome,  but  would 
in  a  far  more  interesting  article. 

Condy  debated  the  subject  a  few  min- 


Blix  43 

ntes,  then  decided  to  go  down  to  the 
wharf.  San  Francisco's  water-front  was 
always  interesting,  and  he  might  get  hold 
of  a  photograph  of  the  whaleback.  All 
at  once  the  "idea"  of  the  article  struck 
him,  the  certain  underlying  notion  that 
would  give  importance  and  weight  to  the 
mere  details  and  descriptions.  Condy's 
enthusiasm  flared  up  in  an  instant. 
"  By  Jove  1  *  he  exclaimed ;  "  by  Jove  I  * 
He  clapped  on  his  hat  wrong  side  fore- 
most, crammed  a  sheaf  of  copy-paper  into 
his  pocket,  and  was  on  the  street  again 
in  another  moment.  Then  it  occurred  to 
him  that  he  had  forgotten  to  call  at  his 
club  that  morning  for  his  mail,  as  was 
his  custom,  on  the  way  to  the  office.  He 
looked  at  his  watch.  It  was  early  yet, 
and  his  club  was  but  two  blocks'  distance. 
He  decided  that  he  would  get  his  letters 
at  the  club,  and  read  them  on  the  way 
down  to  the  wharf. 

For  Condy  had  joined  a  certain  San 
Francisco    club    of    artists,    journalists. 


44  Blix 

musicians,  and  professional  men  that  is 
one  of  the  institutions  of  the  city,  and, 
in  fact,  famous  throughout  the  United 
States.  He  was  one  of  the  younger 
members,  but  was  popular  and  well 
liked,  and  on  more  than  one  occasion 
had  materially  contributed  to  the  fun  of 
the  club's  "low  jinks." 

In  his  box  this  morning  he  found  one 
letter  that  he  told  himself  he  must  read 
upon  the  instant.  It  bore  upon  the  en- 
velope the  name  of  a  New  York  publish- 
ing house  to  whom  Condy  had  sent  a 
collection  of  his  short  stories  about  a 
month  before.  He  took  the  letter  into 
the  "round  window"  of  the  club,  over- 
looking the  street,  and  tore  it  open  ex- 
citedly. The  fact  that  he  had  received  a 
letter  from  the  firm  without  the  return 
of  his  manuscript  seemed  a  good  omen. 
This  was  what  he  read: 

Conde  Rivers,  Esq.,  Bohemian  Club, 
San  Francisco,  Col. 

DEAR  SIR:    We  return  to   you  by  this 


Blix  45 

mail  the  manuscript  of  your  stories, 
which  we  do  not  consider  as  available 
for  publication  at  the  present  moment 
We  would  say,  however,  that  we  find  in 
several  of  them  indications  of  a  quite 
unusual  order  of  merit.  The  best-selling 
book  just  now  is  the  short  novel — say 
thirty  thousand  words — of  action  and  ad- 
venture. Judging  from  the  stories  of 
your  collection,  we  suspect  that  your 
talent  lies  in  this  direction,  and  we 
would  suggest  that  you  write  such  a 
novel  and  submit  the  same  to  us. 
Very  respectfully, 

THE  CENTENNIAL  Co., 

New  York. 

Condy  shoved  the  letter  into  his  pocket 
and  collapsed  limply  into  his  chair. 

"  What's  the  good  of  trying  to  do  any- 
thing  anyhow !  *  he  muttered,  looking 
gloomily  down  into  the  street.  "My 
level  is  just  the  hack-work  of  a  local 
Sunday  supplement,  and  I  am  a  fool  to 
think  of  anything  else." 

His  enthusiasm  in  the  matter  of  the 
City  of  Everett  was  cold  and  dead  in  a 
moment.  Ha  could  see  no  possibilities 


46  Blix 

in  the  subject  whatever.  His  "  idea  *  of 
a  few  minutes  previous  seemed  ridiculous 
and  overwrought.  He  would  go  back  to 
the  office  and  grind  out  his  copy  from 
the  exchange  editor's  clipping. 

Just  then  his  eye  was  caught  by  a 
familiar  figure  in  trim,  well-fitting  black 
halted  on  the  opposite  corner  waiting  for 
the  passage  of  a  cable-car.  It  was  Travis 
Bessemer.  No  one  but  she  could  carry 
off  such  rigorous  simplicity  in  the  matter 
of  dress  so  well :  black  skirt,  black  Rus- 
sian blouse,  tiny  black  bonnet  and  black 
veil,  white  kids  with  black  stitching. 
Simplicity  itself.  Yet  the  style  of  her, 
as  Condy  Rivers  told  himself,  flew  up  and 
hit  you  in  the  face ;  and  her  figure — was 
there  anything  more  perfect?  and  the  soft 
pretty  effect  of  her  yellow  hair  seen 
through  the  veil  —  could  anything  be 
more  fetching?  and  her  smart  carriage 
and  the  fling  of  her  fine  broad  shoulders, 
and — no,  it  was  no  use ;  Condy  had  to 
run  down  to  speak  to  her. 


Blix  47 

"Come,  cornel"  she  said  as  he  pre- 
tended to  jostle  against  her  on  the  curb- 
stone without  noticing  her;  "you  had 
best  go  to  work.  Loafing  at  ten  o'clock 
on  the  street-corners — the  idea  I  * 

"  It  is  not — it  cannot  be — and  yet  it 
is — it  is  she'  he  burlesqued ;  "  and  after 
all  these  years  I "  Then  in  his  natural 
voice:  « Hello, T.  B." 

"Hello,  C  B" 

"Where  are  you  going?  * 

"Home.  I've  just  run  down  for  half 
an  hour  to  have  the  head  of  my  banjo 
tightened." 

"  If  I  put  you  on  the  car,  will  you  ex- 
pect me  to  pay  your  car-fare?  " 

*  Condy  Eivers,  I've  long  since  got  over 
the  idea  of  ever  expecting  you  to  have 
any  change  concealed  about  your  person." 

"Huh!  no,  it  all  goes  for  theatre- 
tickets,  and  flowers,  and  boxes  of  candy 
for  a  certain  girl  I  know.  But " — and  he 
glared  at  her  significantly  —  "no  more 
foolishness." 


48  Bhx 

She    laughed      "What   are  you    'on 
this  morning,  Condy  ? " 

Condy  told  her  as  they  started  to  walk 
toward  Kearney  Street. 

"But  why  don't  you  go  to  the  dock 
and  see  the  vessel,  if  you  can  make  a 
better  article  that  way? ' 

*  Oh,  what's  the  good !     The  Centennial 
people  have  turned  down  my  stories/ 

She  commiserated  him  for  this ;  then 
suddenly  exclaimed : 

*  No,  you  must  go  down  to  the  dock ! 
You  ought  to,  Condy.     Oh,  I  tell  you. 
let  me  go  down  with  you  I  * 

In  an  instant  Condy  leaped  to  the  no- 
tion. "Splendid!  splendid!  no  reason 
why  you  shouldn't ! "  he  exclaimed.  And 
within  fifteen  minutes  the  two  were 
treading  the  wharfs  and  quays  of  the 
city's  water-front. 

Ships  innumerable  nuzzled  at  the  end- 
less line  of  docks,  mast  overspiring  mast, 
and  bowsprit  overlapping  bowsprit,  till 
the  eye  was  bewildered,  as  if  by  the  con- 


Blix  49 

fusion  of  branches  in  a  leafless  forest. 
In  the  distance  the  mass  of  rigging  re- 
solved itself  into  a  solid  gray  blur  against 
the  sky.  The  great  hulks,  green  and 
black  and  slate  gray,  laid  themselves 
along  the  docks,  straining  leisurely  at 
their  mammoth  chains,  their  flanks 
opened,  their  cargoes,  as  it  were  their 
entrails,  spewed  out  in  a  wild  disarray  of 
crate  and  bale  and  box.  Sailors  and 
stevedores  swarmed  them  like  vermin. 
Trucks  rolled  along  the  wharfs  like 
peals  of  ordnance,  the  horse-hoofs  beat- 
ing the  boards  like  heavy  drum  -  taps. 
Chains  clanked,  a  ship's  dog  barked  in- 
cessantly from  a  companionway,  ropes 
creaked  in  complaining  pulleys,  blocks 
rattled,  hoisting-engines  coughed  and 
strangled,  while  all  the  air  was  redolent 
of  oakum,  of  pitch,  of  paint,  of  spices,  of 
ripe  fruit,  of  clean  cool  lumber,  of  coffee, 
of  tar,  of  bilge,  and  the  brisk,  nimble 
odor  of  the  sea. 

Travis  was  delighted,  her  little  brown 

4 


50  Blix 

eyes  snapping,  her  cheeks  flushing,  as 
she  drank  in  the  scene. 

"To  think,"  she  cried,  "where  all  these 
ships  have  come  from!  Look  at  their 
names;  aren't  they  perfect?  Just  the 
names,  see:  the  Mary  Baker,  Hull;  and 
the  Anandale,  Liverpool ;  and  the  Two 
Sisters,  Calcutta ;  and  see  that  one  they're 
calking,  the  Montevideo,  Callao;  and 
there,  lookl  look!  the  very  one  you're 
looking  for,  the  City  of  JZverett,  San 
Francisco." 

The  whaleback,  an  immense  tube  of 
steel  plates,  lay  at  her  wharf,  sucking  in 
entire  harvests  of  wheat  from  the  San 
Joaquin  valley — harvests  that  were  to  feed 
strangely  clad  skeletons  on  the  southern 
slopes  of  the  Himalaya  foot-hills.  Travis 
and  Condy  edged  their  way  among  piles 
of  wheat-bags,  dodging  drays  and  rum- 
bling trucks,  and  finally  brought  up  at  the 
after  gangplank,  where  a  sailor  halted 
them.  Condy  exhibited  his  reporter's 
badge. 


Blix  51 

'I  represent  The  Times,"  he  said,  with 
profound  solemnity,  "and  I  want  to  see 
the  officer  in  charge." 

The  sailor  fell  back  upon  the  instant. 

"Power  of  the  press,"  whispered  Condy 
to  Travis  as  the  two  gained  the  deck 

A  second  sailor  directed  them  to  the 
mate,  whom  they  found  in  the  chart- 
room,  engaged,  singularly  enough,  in 
trimming  the  leaves  of  a  scraggly 
geranium. 

Condy  explained  his  mission  with  flat- 
tering allusions  to  the  whaleback  and 
the  novelty  of  the  construction.  The 
mate  —  an  old  man  with  a  patriarchal 
beard — softened  at  once,  asked  them  into 
his  own  cabin  aft,  and  even  brought  out 
a  camp-stool  for  Travis,  brushing  it  with 
his  sleeve  before  setting  it  down. 

While  Condy  was  interviewing  the  old 
fellow,  Travis  was  examining,  with  the 
interest  of  a  child,  the  details  of  the 
cabin:  the  rack-like  bunk,  tha  wash- 
stand,  ingeniously  constructed  so  as  to 


52  Blix 

shut  into  the  bulkhead  when  not  in  use, 
the  alarm-clock  screwed  to  the  wall,  and 
the  array  of  photographs  thrust  into  the 
mirror  between  frame  and  glass.  One, 
an  old  daguerreotype,  particularly  caught 
her  fancy.  It  was  the  portrait  of  a  very 
beautiful  girl,  wearing  the  old-fashioned 
side  curls  and  high  comb  of  a  half-cen- 
tury previous.  The  old  mate  noticed  the 
attention  she  paid  to  it,  and,  as  soon  as 
he  had  done  giving  information  toCondy, 
turned  and  nodded  to  Travis,  and  said 
quietly :  "  She  was  pretty,  wasn't  she  ?  * 

"  Oh,  very !  *  answered  Travis,  without 
looking  away. 

There  was  a  silence.  Then  the  mate, 
his  eyes  wide  and  thoughtful,  said  with 
a  long  breath: 

"And  she  was  just  about  your  age, 
miss,  when  I  saw  her;  and  you  favor  her 
too." 

Condy  and  Travis  held  their  breaths 
in  attention.  There  in  the  cabin  of  that 
curious  nondescript  whaleback  they  had 


53 

come  suddenly  to  the  edge  of  a  romance — 
a  romance  that  had  been  lived  through 
before  they  were  born.  Then  Travis  said 
in  a  low  voice,  and  sweetly:  "She  died? " 

"  Before  I  ever  set  eyes  on  her,  miss. 
That  is,  maybe  she  died.  I  sometimes 
think — fact  is,  I  really  believe  she's  alive 
yet,  and  waiting  for  me."  He  hesitated 
awkwardly.  *  I  dunno,"  he  said,  pulling 
his  beard.  '  I  don't  usually  tell  that  story 
to  strange  folk ;  but  you  remind  me  so  of 
her  that  I  guess  I  will." 

Condy  sat  down  on  the  edge  of  the 
bunk,  and  the  mate  seated  himself  on  the 
plush  settle  opposite  the  door,  his  elbows 
on  his  knees,  his  eyes  fixed  on  a  patch  of 
sunlight  upon  the  deck  outside. 

"I  began  life,"  he  said,  "as  a  deep-sea 
diver — began  pretty  young  too.  I  first 
put  on  the  armor  when  I  was  twenty, 
nothing  but  a  lad ;  but  I  could  take  the 
pressure  up  to  seventy  pounds  even  then,' 
One  of  my  very  first  dives  was  off  Trin- 
comalee,  on  the  coast  of  Ceylon.  A  maU 


packet  had  gone  down  in  a  squall  with 
all  on  board.  Six  of  the  bodies  had 
come  up  and  had  been  recovered,  but  the 
seventh  hadn't.  It  was  the  body  of  the 
daughter  of  the  governor  of  the  island — a 
beautiful  young  girl  of  nineteen,  whom 
everybody  loved.  I  was  sent  for  to  go 
down  and  bring  the  body  up.  Well,  I 
went  down.  The  packet  lay  in  a  hun- 
dred feet  of  water,  and  that's  a  wonder 
deep  dive.  I  had  to  go  down  twice. 
The  first  time  I  couldn't  find  anything, 
though  I  went  all  through  the  berth- 
deck.  I  came  up  to  the  wrecking-float 
and  reported  that  I  had  seen  nothing. 
There  were  a  lot  of  men  there  belonging 
to  the  wrecking  gang,  and  some  corre- 
spondents of  London  papers.  But  they 
would  have  it  that  she  was  below,  and 
had  me  go  down  again.  I  did,  and  this 
time  I  found  her." 

The  mate  paused  a  moment. 

"I'll  have  to  tell  you,"  he  went  on, 
"that  when  a  body  don't  come  to  the 


Blix  SS 

surface  it  will  stand  or  sit  in  a  perfectly 
natural  position  until  a  current  or  move- 
ment of  the  water  around  touches  it. 
When  that  happens — well,  you'd  say  the 
body  was  alive;  and  old  divers  have  a 
superstition — no,  it  ain't  just  a  supersti- 
tion, I  believe  it's  so — that  drowned  peo- 
ple really  don't  die  till  they  come  to  the 
surface,  and  the  air  touches  them.  We 
say  that  the  drowned  who  don't  come  up 
still  have  some  sort  of  life  of  their  own 
way  down  there  in  all  that  green  watei 
.  .  .  some  kind  of  life  .  .  .  surely  .  .  . 
surely.  When  1  went  down  the  second 
time,  I  came  across  the  door  of  what  I 
thought  at  first  was  the  linen-closet. 
But  it  turned  out  to  be  a  little  state- 
room. I  opened  it.  There  was  the  girl. 
She  was  sitting  on  the  sofa  opposite  the 
door,  with  a  little  hat  on  her  head,  and 
holding  a  satchel  in  her  lap,  just  as  if 
she  was  ready  tc  go  ashore.  Her  eyes 
were  wide  open,  and  she  was  looking 
right  at  me  and  smiling.  It  didn't  seem 


56  filix 


terrible  or  ghastly  in  the  least.  She 
seemed  very  sweet.  When  I  opened  the 
door  it  set  the  water  in  motion,  and  she 
got  up  and  dropped  the  satchel,  and  came 
toward  me  smiling  and  holding  out  her 
arms. 

"I  stepped  back  quick  and  shut  the 
door,  and  sat  down  in  one  of  the  saloon 
chairs  to  fetch  my  breath,  for  it  had 
given  me  a  start.  The  next  thing  to  do 
was  to  send  her  up.  But  I  began  to 
think.  She  seemed  so  pretty  as  she  was. 
What  was  the  use  of  bringing  her  up — 
up  there  on  the  wrecking-float  with  that 
crowd  of  men — up  where  the  air  would 
get  at  her,  and  where  they  would  put  her 
in  the  ground  along  o"  the  worms?  If  I 
left  her  there  she'd  always  be  sweet  and 
pretty — always  be  nineteen;  and  I  re- 
membered what  old  divers  said  about 
drowned  people  living  just  so  long  as 
they  stayed  below.  You  see,  I  was  only 
a  lad  then,  and  things  like  that  impress 
you  when  you're  young  Well,  I  sig- 


Blix  57 

nailed  to  be  hauled  up.  They  asked  me 
on  the  float  if  I'd  seen  anything,  and  1 
said  no.  That  was  all  there  was  to  the 
affair.  They  never  raised  the  ship,  and 
in  a  little  while  it  was  all  forgotten. 

"But  I  never  forgot  it,  and  I  always 
remembered  her,  way  down  there  in  all 
that  still  green  water,  waiting  there  in 
that  little  state-room  for  me  to  come  back 
and  open  the  door.  And  I've  growed  to 
be  an  old  man  remembering  her;  but 
she's  always  stayed  just  as  she  was  the 
nrst  day  I  saw  her,  when  she  came 
toward  me  smiling  and  holding  out  her 
arms.  She's  always  stayed  young  and 
fresh  and  pretty.  I  never  saw  her  but 
that  once.  Only  afterward  I  got  her 
picture  from  a  native  woman  of  Trin- 
comalee  who  was  housekeeper  at  the 
Residency  where  the  governoi  of  the 
island  lived.  Somehow  I  never  could 
care  for  other  women  after  that,  and  T 
am  t  never  married  for  that  reason." 

'No,  DO,  of  course  uot!"    exclaimed 


58  Blix 

Travis,  in  a  low  voice,  as  the  old  fellow 
paused. 

Tine,  fine;  oh,  fine  as  gold!"  mur- 
mured Condy,  under  his  breath. 

"Well,"  said  the  mate,  getting  up  and 
tubbing  his  knee, "  that's  the  story.  Now 
you  know  all  about  that  picture.  Will 
you  have  a  glass  of  Madeira,  miss?" 

He  got  out  a  bottle  of  wine  bearing 
the  genuine  Funchal  label  and  filled  three 
tiny  glasses.  Travis  pushed  up  her  veil, 
and  she  and  Condy  rose. 

"  This  is  to  her"  said  Travis  gravely. 

"Thank  you,  miss,"  answered  the  mate, 
and  the  three  drank  in  silence. 

As  Travis  and  Condy  were  going  down 
the  gangplank  they  met  the  captain  of 
the  whaleback  coming  up. 

"I  saw  you  in  there  talking  to  old 
McPherson,"  he  explained.  "Did  you 
get  what  you  wanted  from  him? " 

"More,  more!"  exclaimed  Condy. 

"My  hand  in  the  fire,  he  told  you  that 
yam  about  the  girl  who  was  drowned  ofl 


Bloc  S9 

Trincomalee.  Of  course,  I  knew  it 
The  old  boy's  wits  are  turned  on  that 
subject.  He  will  have  it  that  the  body 
hasn't  decomposed  in  all  this  time. 
Good  seaman  enough,  and  a  first-class 
navigator,  but  he's  soft  in  that  one  spot " 


IV 


"On,  but  the  story  of  it!"  exclaimed 
Condy  as  he  and  Travis  regained  the 
wharf — "the  story  of  it!  Isn't  it  a 
ripper!  Isn't  it  a  corker!  His  leaving 
her  that  way,  and  never  caring  for  any 
other  girl  afterward." 

"And  so  original!"  she  commented, 
quite  as  enthusiastic  as  he. 

"Original? — why  it's  new  as  paint! 
It's — it's — Travis,  I'll  make  a  story  out 
of  this  that  will  be  copied  in  every  paper 
between  the  two  oceans." 

They  were  so  interested  in  the  mate's 
story  that  they  forgot  to  take  a  car,  and 
walked  up  Clay  Street  talking  it  over, 
suggesting,  rearranging,  and  embellishing; 
and  Condy  was  astonished  and  delighted 
to  note  that  she  "caught  on"  to  the  idea 
as  quickly  as  he,  and  knew  the  telling 
points  and  what  details  to  leave  out 


Blix  61 

*And  I'll  make  a  bang-up  article  out 
of  the  whaleback  herself,"  declared  Con- 
dy.  The  "  idea  "  of  the  article  had  re- 
turned to  him,  and  all  his  enthusiasm 
with  it. 

"And  look  here,"  he  said,  showing  her 
the  letter  from  the  Centennial  Com- 
pany. "  They  turned  down  my  book,  but 
see  what  they  say." 

"  Quite  an  unusual  order  of  merit !  * 
cried  Travis.  "  Why,  that's  fint !  Why 
didn't  you  show  this  to  me  before? — and 
asking  you  like  this  to  write  them  m 
novel  of  adventure !  What  mort  can  you 
want?  Oh ! "  she  exclaimed  impatiently, 
*  that's  so  like  you ;  you  would  tell  every- 
body about  your  reverses,  and  carry  on 
about  them  yourself,  but  never  say  a  word 
when  you  get  a  little  boom.  Have  you 
an  idea  for  a  thirty-thousand- word  novel  ? 
Wouldn't  that  diver's  story  do  ? " 

"No,  there's  not  enough  in  that  for 
thirty  thousand  words.  I  haven't  any 
idea  at  all — never  wrote  a  story  of  ad- 


62  Blix 

venture  —  never  wrote  anything  longer 
than  six  thousand  words.  But  I'll  keep 
my  eye  open  for  something  that  will  do. 
By  the  way — by  Jove!  Travis,  where  are 
we?" 

They  looked  swiftly  around  them,  and 
the  bustling,  breezy  water-front  faded 
from  their  recollections.  They  were  in 
a  world  of  narrow  streets,  of  galleries 
and  overhanging  balconies.  Craziest 
structures,  riddled  and  honeycombed 
with  stairways  and  passages,  shut  out 
the  sky,  though  here  and  there  rose  a 
building  of  extraordinary  richness  and 
most  elaborate  ornamentation.  Color 
was  everywhere.  A  thousand  little 
notes  of  green  and  yellow,  of  vermil- 
ion and  sky  blue,  assaulted  the  eye. 
Here  it  was  a  doorway,  here  a  vivid 
glint  of  cloth  or  hanging,  here  a  huge 
scarlet  sign  lettered  with  gold,  and  here 
a  kaleidoscopic  effect  in  the  garments 
of  a  passer-by.  Directly  opposite,  and 
two  stories  above  their  heads,  a  sort  of 


BHx  63 

huge  "loggia,"  one  blaze  of  gilding  and 
crude  vermilions,  opened  in  the  gray 
cement  of  a  crumbling  fa9ade,  like  a 
sudden  burst  of  flame.  Gigantic  pot- 
bellied lanterns  of  red  and  gold  swung 
from  its  ceiling,  while  along  its  railing 
stood  a  row  of  pots — brass,  ruddy  bronze, 
and  blue  porcelain  —  from  which  were 
growing  red,  saffron,  purple,  pink,  and 
golden  tulips  without  number.  The  air 
was  vibrant  with  unfamiliar  noises. 
From  one  of  the  balconies  near  at  hand, 
though  unseen,  a  gong,  a  pipe,  and  some 
kind  of  stringed  instrument  wailed  and 
thundered  in  unison.  There  was  a  vast 
shuffling  of  padded  soles  and  a  continu- 
ous interchange  of  singsong  monosylla- 
bles, high-pitched  and  staccato,  while 
from  every  hand  rose  the  strange  aromas 
of  the  East — sandalwood,  punk,  incense, 
oil,  and  the  smell  of  mysterious  cookery. 
"  Chinatown !  "  exclaimed  Travis.  *  I 
hadn't  the  faintest  idea  we  had  come  up 
so  far  Condy  Rivers,  do  you  know  what 


64  Blix 

time  it  is?'  She  pointed  a  white  kid 
finger  through  the  doorway  of  a  drug- 
store, where,  amid  lacquer  boxes  and 
bronze  urns  of  herbs  and  dried  seeds,  a 
round  Seth  Thomas  marked  half-past 
two. 

"And  your  lunch?"  cried  Condy. 
"  Great  heavens  I  I  never  thought." 

"It's  too  late  to  get  any  at  home. 
Never  mind ;  I'll  go  somewhere  and  have 
a  cup  of  tea." 

"Why  not  get  a  package  of  Chinese 
tea,  now  that  you're  down  here,  and  take 
it  home  with  you?" 

"Or  drink  it  here." 

"Where?" 

"In  one  of  the  restaurants.  There 
wouldn't  be  a  soul  there  at  this  hour. 
I  know  they  serve  tea  any  time.  Condy, 
let's  try  it.  Wouldn't  it  be  fun  ?  * 

Condy  smote  his  thigh.  Tun!"  he 
vociferated;  "fun!  It  is — by  Jove — it 
would  be  heavenly!  Wait  a  moment. 
I'll  tell  you  what  we  will  do.  Tea  won't 


Blix  65 

be  enough.  We'll  go  down  to  Kearney 
Street,  or  to  the  market,  and  get  some 
crackers  to  go  with  it." 

They  hurried  back  to  the  California 
market,  a  few  blocks  distant,  and  bought 
some  crackers  and  a  wedge  of  new  cheese. 
On  the  way  back  to  Chinatown  Travis 
stopped  at  a  music-store  on  Kearney 
Street  to  get  her  banjo,  which  she  had 
left  to  have  its  head  tightened ;  and  thus 
burdened  they  regained  the  "  town,"  Con- 
dy  grieving  audibly  at  having  to  carry 
"brown-paper  bundles  through  the  street." 

"First  catch  your  restaurant,"  said 
Travis  as  they  turned  into  Dupont  Street 
with  its  thronging  coolies  and  swarming, 
gayly  clad  children.  But  they  had  not 
far  to  seek. 

"Here  you  are!"  suddenly  exclaimed 
Condy,  halting  in  front  of  a  wholesale 
tea-house  bearing  a  sign  in  Chinese  and 
English.  "  Come  on,  Travia !  " 

They  ascended  two  flights  of  a  broad, 
brass-bound  staircase  leading  up  from  the 
5 


66  Blix 

ground  floor,  and  gained  the  restaurant 
on  the  top  story  of  the  building.  As 
Travis  had  foretold,  it  was  deserted.  She 
clasped  her  gloved  hands  gayly,  crying : 
"Isn't  it  delightful!  We've  the  whole 
place  to  ourselves." 

The  restaurant  ran  the  whole  depth  of 
the  building,  and  was  finished  off  at  either 
extremity  with  a  gilded  balcony,  one 
overlooking  Dupont  Street  and  the  other 
the  old  Plaza.  Enormous  screens  of  gild- 
ed ebony,  intricately  carved  and  set  with 
colored  glass  panes,  divided  the  room  into 
three,  and  one  of  these  divisions,  in  the 
rear  part,  from  which  they  could  step  out 
upon  the  balcony  that  commanded  the 
view  of  the  Plaza,  they  elected  as  their 
own. 

It  was  charming.  At  their  backs  they 
had  the  huge,  fantastic  screen,  brave  and 
fine  with  its  coat  of  gold.  In  front, 
through  the  glass-paved  valves  of  a  pair 
of  folding  doors,  they  could  see  the  roofd 
of  the  houses  beyond  the  Plaza,  and  be- 


Blix  67 

yond  these  the  blue  of  the  bay  with  its 
anchored  ships,  and  even  beyond  this  the 
faint  purple  of  the  Oakland  shore.  On 
either  side  of  these  doors,  in  deep  alcoves, 
were  divans  with  mattings  and  head- 
rests for  opium-smokers.  The  walls  were 
painted  blue  and  hung  with  vertical  Can- 
tonese legends  in  red  and  silver,  while  all 
around  the  sidss  of  the  room  small  ebony 
tables  alternated  with  ebony  stools,  each 
inlaid  with  a  slab  of  mottled  marble.  A 
chandelier,  all  a-glitter  with  tinsel,  swung 
from  the  centre  of  the  ceiling  over  a  huge 
round  table  of  mahogany. 

And  not  a  soul  was  there  to  disturb 
them.  Below  them,  out  there  around  the 
old  Plaza,  the  city  drummed  through 
its  work  with  a  lazy,  soothing  rumble. 
Nearer  at  hand,  Chinatown  sent  up  the 
vague  murmur  of  the  life  of  the  Orient. 
In  the  direction  of  the  Mexican  quarter, 
the  bell  of  the  cathedral  knolled  at  inter- 
vals. The  sky  was  without  a  cloud  and 
the  afternoon  was  warm. 


68  Blix 

Condy  was  inarticulate  with  the  joy 
of  what  he  called  their  "discovery."  He 
got  up  and  sat  down.  He  went  out  into 
the  other  room  and  came  back  again. 
He  dragged  up  a  couple  of  the  marble- 
seated  stools  to  the  table.  He  took  off 
his  hat,  lit  a  cigarette,  let  it  go  out,  lit  it 
again,  and  burned  his  fingers.  He  opened 
and  closed  the  folding  doors,  pushed  the 
table  into  a  better  light,  and  finally 
brought  Travis  out  upon  the  balcony  to 
show  her  the  K  points  of  historical  inter- 
est *  in  and  around  the  Plaza. 

"There's  the  Stevenson  memorial  ship 
in  the  centre,  see ;  and  right  there,  where 
the  flagstaff  is,  General  Baker  made  the 
funeral  oration  over  the  body  of  Terry, 
Broderick  killed  him  in  a  duel, — or  was  it 
Terry  killed  Broderick?  I  forget  which. 
Anyhow,  right  opposite,  where  that 
pawnshop  is,  is  where  the  Overland 
stages  used  to  start  in  '49.  And  every 
other  building  that  fronts  on  the  Plaza, 
even  this  one  we're  in  now,  used  to  be  a 


Blix  69 

gambling-house  in  bonanza  times;  and 
we,  over  yonder  is  the  Morgue  and  the 
City  Prison." 

They  turned  back  into  the  room,  and 
a  great,  fat  Chinaman  brought  them  tea 
on  Condy's  order.  But  besides  tea,  he 
brought  dried  almonds,  pickled  water- 
melon rinds,  candied  quince,  and  "China 
nuts." 

Travis  cut  the  cheese  into  cubes  with 
Condy's  penknife,  and  arranged  the  cubes 
in  geometric  figures  upon  the  crackers. 

"But,  Condy,"  she  complained,  "why 
in  the  world  did  you  get  so  many  crack 
ers?  There's  hundreds  of  them  here- 
enough  to  feed  a  regiment.  Why  didn't 
you  ask  me?" 

"Huh!  what?  what?  I  don't  know 
What's  the  matter  with  the  crackers  i 
You  were  dickering  with  the  cheese,  and 
the  man  said,  '  How  many  crackers?  *  I 
didn't  know.  I  said,  '  Oh,  give  me  ft 
quarter's  worth  I '  " 

*  And  we  couldn't  possibly  have  eaten 


70  Blix 

ten  cents'  worth!  Oh,  Condy,  you  are — 

you  are But  never  mind,  here's  your 

tea.     I  wonder  if  this  green,  pasty  stuff  is 
good." 

They  found  that  it  was,  but  so  sweet 
that  it  made  their  tea  taste  bitter.  The 
watermelon  rinds  were  flat  to  their  West- 
ern palates,  but  the  dried  almonds  were 
a  great  success.  Then  Condy  promptly 
got  the  hiccoughs  from  drinking  his  tea 
too  fast,  and  fretted  up  and  down  the 
room  like  a  chicken  with  the  pip  till 
Travis  grew  faint  and  weak  with  laugh- 
ter. ... 

"Oh,  well,*  he  exclaimed  aggrievedly, 
— "laugh,  that's  right!  /  don't  laugh. 
It  isn't  such  fun  when  you've  got  'em 
yoursel — hulp* 

"But  sit  down,  for  goodness'  sakei 
You  make  me  so  nervous.  You  can't 
walk  them  off.  Sit  down  and  hold  your 
breath  while  you  count  nine.  Condy, 
I'm  going  to  take  off  my  gloves  and  veil 
What  do  you  think?" 


Blix  71 

'  Sure,  of  course ;  and  I'll  have  a  cigar- 
ette. Do  you  mind  if  I  smoke?  " 

"  Well,  what's  that  in  your  hand  now  ?  * 

"  By  Jove,  I  have  been  smoking !  I — 
I  beg  your  pardon.  I'm  a  regular  stable 
boy.  I'll  throw  it  away." 

Travis  caught  his  wrist.  "What  non- 
sense 1  I  would  have  told  you  before  if 
I'd  minded.* 

"But  it's  gone  out!"  he  exclaimed 
"I'll  have  another." 

As  he  reached  into  his  pocket  for  his 
case,  his  hand  encountered  a  paper-cov- 
ered volume,  and  he  drew  it  out  in  some 
perplexity. 

*  Now,  how  in  the  wide  world  did  that 
book  come  in  my  pocket? "  he  muttered, 
frowning.  "What  have  1  been  carrying 
it  around  for?  I've  forgotten  I  declare 
I  have." 

"What  book  is  it?" 

"Hey?  book?  .  .  .  h'm,"  he  rnuiv 
mured,  staring. 

Travis  pounded  on  the  table.     *  Wake 


72  Blix 

up,  Condy,  I'm  talking  to  you,"  she 
called. 

*  It's  '  Life's  Handicap,'  "  he  answered, 
with  a  start;  "but  why  and  but  why 
have  I • 

"  What's  it  about?  I  never  heard  of 
it,"  she  declared. 

"You  never  heard  of  '  Life's  Handi- 
cap '  ?  *  he  shouted ;  "  you  never  heard — 
you  never — you  mean  to  say  you  never 
heard — but  here,  this  won't  do.  Sit  right 
still,  and  I'll  read  you  one  of  these  yarns 
before  you're  another  minute  older.  Any 
one  of  them — open  the  book  at  random. 
Here  we  are, — '  The  Strange  Ride  of 
Morrowbie  Jukes'  ;  and  it's  a  stem- 
winder,  too." 

And  then  for  the  first  time  in  her  life, 
there  in  that  airy,  golden  Chinese  restau- 
rant, in  the  city  from  which  he  hasted  to 
flee,  Travis  Bessemer  fell  under  the  charm 
of  the  little  spectacled  colonial,  to  whose 
song  we  all  must  listen  and  to  whose  pipe 
we  all  must  dance. 


73 

There  was  one  "  point- '  ia  tke  story  of 
Jukes'  strange  ride  that  Condy  prided 
himself  upon  having  discovered.  So  fai 
as  he  knew,  all  critics  had  overlooked  it. 
It  is  where  Jukes  is  describing  the  man- 
trap of  the  City  of  the  Dead  who  are 
alive,  and  mentions  that  the  slope  of  the 
enclosing  sandhills  was  "  about  forty-five 
degrees."  Jukes  was  a  civil  engineer, 
and  Condy  held  that  it  was  a  capital  bit 
of  realism  on  the  part  of  the  author  to 
have  him  speak  of  the  pitch  of  the  hills 
in  just  such  technical  terms.  At  first  he 
thought  he  would  call  Travis'  attention  to 
this  bit  of  cleverness ;  but  as  he  read  he 
abruptly  changed  his  mind.  He  would 
see  if  she  would  find  it  out  for  herself. 
It  would  be  a  test  of  her  quickness,  he 
told  himself;  almost  an  unfair  test,  be- 
cause the  point  was  extremely  subtle  and 
could  easily  be  ignored  by  the  most  ex- 
perienced of  fiction  readers.  He  read 
steadily  on,  working  himself  into  a  posi 
tivo  excitement  as  he  approached  the 


74  Blix 

passage.  He  came  to  it  and  read  it 
through  without  any  emphasis,  almost 
slurring  over  it  in  his  eagerness  to  be 
perfectly  fair.  But  as  he  began  to  read 
the  next  paragraph,  Travis,  her  little  eyes 
sparkling  with  interest  and  attention,  ex- 
claimed : 

"Just  as  an  engineer  would  describe  it 
Isn't  that  good  I  * 

"Glory  hallelujah!"  cried  Condy, 
slamming  down  the  book  joyfully. 
"Travis,  you  are  one  in  a  thousand!" 

"What  —  what  is  it?"  she  inquired 
blankly. 

"Never  mind,  never  mind;  you're  a 
wonder,  that's  all," — and  he  finished  the 
tale  without  further  explanation.  Then, 
while  he  smoked  another  cigarette  and 
she  drank  another  cup  of  tea,  he  read  to 
her  "  The  Eeturn  of  Imri  "  and  the  "  In- 
carnation  of  Krishna  Mulvaney."  He 
found  her  an  easy  and  enrapt  convert  to 
the  little  Englishman's  creed,  and  for 
himself  tasted  the  intense  delight  of  re- 


Elbe  75 


vealing  to  another  an  appreciation  of  a 
literature  hitherto  ignored. 

"  Isn't  he  strong ! "  cried  Travis.  "  Just 
a  little  better  than  Marie  Corelli  and  the 
Duchess ! " 

"  And  to  think  of  having  all  those  sto- 
ries to  read  I  You  haven't  read  any  of 
them  yet?  ' 

"Not  a  one.  I've  been  reading  only 
the  novels  we  take  up  in  the  Wednesday 
class." 

"  Lord ! "  muttered  Condy. 

Condy's  spirits  had  been  steadily  rising 
since  the  incident  aboard  the  whaleback 
The  exhilaration  of  the  water-front,  his 
delight  over  the  story  he  was  to  make 
out  of  the  old  mate's  yarn,  Chinatown, 
the  charming  unconventionality  of  their 
lunch  in  the  Chinese  restaurant,  the 
sparkling  serenity  of  the  afternoon,  and 
the  joy  of  discovering  Travis'  apprecia- 
tion of  his  adored  and  venerated  author, 
had  put  him  into  a  mood  bordering  close 
upon  hilarity. 


76  Blix 

*The  next  event  upon  our  interesting 
programme,"  he  announced,  "will  be  a 
ban  Josephine  obligato  in  A-sia  minor,  by 
that  justly  renowned  impresario,  Signoi 
Conde  Tin-pani  Rivers,  specially  engaged 
for  this  performance;  with  a  pleasing  and 
pan-hellenic  song-and-dance  turn  by  Miss 
Travis  Bessemer,  the  infant  phenomenon, 
otherwise  known  as  '  Babby  Bessie.'  " 

*  You're  not  going  to  play  that  banjo 
here? "  said  Travis,  as  he  stripped  away 
the  canvas  covering. 

*  Order  in  the  gallery  1 "  cried  Condy. 
beginning  to  tune  up.     Then  in  a  rapid, 
professional  monotone:  " Ladies-and-gen- 
tlemen-with-your-kind-permission-I-will 
endeavor-to-give-you-an-imitation  -  of  -  a- 
Carolina- coon-song," — and  without  more 
ado,   singing    the  words   to  a  rattling, 
catchy  accompaniment,  swung  off  into — 

"F— or  my  gal's  a  high-born  leddy. 
Sfie't  brack,  but  not  too  shady .  " 

He  did  not  sing  loud,  and  the  clack 


Blix  77 

and  snarl  of  the  banjo  carried  hardly  far- 
ther than  the  adjoining  room ;  but  there 
was  no  one  to  hear,  and,  as  he  went  along, 
even  Travis  began  to  hum  the  words. 
But  at  that,  Condy  stopped  abruptly,  laid 
the  instrument  across  his  knees  with 
exaggerated  solicitude,  and  said  deliber- 
ately : 

"Travis,  you  are  a  good,  sweet  girl, 
and  what  you  lack  in  beauty  you  make 
up  in  amiability,  and  I've  no  doubt  you 
are  kind  to  your  aged  father;  but  you — 
can — not — sing." 

Travis  was  cross  in  a  moment,  all  the 
more  so  because  Condy  had  spoken  the 
exact  truth.  It  was  quite  impossible 
for  her  to  carry  a  tune  half-a-dozen  bars 
without  entangling  herself  in  as  many 
different  keys.  What  voice  she  had  was 
not  absolutely  bad ;  but  as  she  persisted 
in  singing  in  spite  of  Condy's  guying,  he 
put  back  his  head  and  began  a  mournful 
and  lugubrious  howling. 

"Ho!"    she    exclaimed,    grabbing    the 


78  Blix 

banjo  from  his  knees,  "  if  I  can't  sing,  1 
can  play  better  than  some  smart  people.* 

*  Yes,  by  note,"  railed  Condy,  as  Travis 
executed  a  banjo  "piece  "  of  no  little  in- 
tricacy. "  That's  just  like  a  machine — 
like  a  hand-piano." 

"  Order  in  the  gallery  1 "  she  retorted, 
without  pausing  in  her  playing.  She 
finished  with  a  great  flourish  and  gazed 
at  him  in  triumph,  only  to  find  him  pre- 
tending a  profound  slumber.  "0 — o — 
o ! "  she  remarked  between  her  teeth,  "  I 
just  hate  you,  Condy  Eivers." 

"There  are  others,"  he  returned  airily. 

"Talk  about  slang." 

"Now  what  will  we  do?"  he  cried. 
"  Let's  do  something.  Suppose  we  break 
something — just  for  fun." 

Then  suddenly  the  gayety  went  out  of 
his  face,  and  he  started  up  and  clapped 
his  hand  to  his  head  with  a  gasp  of  dis- 
may. "  Great  Heavens ! "  he  exclaimed. 

"  Condy,"  cried  Travis  in  alarm,  *  what 
is  it?' 


Blix  79 

"The  Tea!"  he  vociferated.  "Laurie 
Flagg's  Tea.  I  ought  to  be  there — right 
this  minute." 

Travis  fetched  a  sigh  of  relief.  "Is 
that  all?" 

•  All !  "  he  retorted.  "  All !  Why,  it's 
past  four  now — and  I'd  forgotten  every 
last  thing."  Then  suddenly  falling  calm 
again,  and  quietly  resuming  his  seat:  *I 
don't  see  as  it  makes  any  difference.  I 
won't  go,  that's  all.  Push  those  almonds 
here,  will  you,  Miss  Lady? — But  we 
aren't  doing  anything,"  he  exclaimed, 
with  a  brusque  return  of  exuberance. 
"Let's  do  things.  What'll  we  do? 
Think  of  something.  Is  there  anything 
we  can  break?"  Then,  without  any 
transition,  he  vaulted  upon  the  table  and 
began  to  declaim,  with  tremendous  ges« 


There  once  was  a  beast  called  an  Ounce, 
Who  went  with  a  spring  and  a  bounce. 

His  bead  was  as  flat 

A.S  the  head  of  a  cat 


Blix 

This  quadrupetantical  Ounce, 

— tical  Ounce, 
This  quadrupetantical  Ounce. 

"You'd  think  from  his  name  he  was  small, 
But  that  was  not  like  him  at  all. 
He  weighed,  I'll  be  bound, 
Three  or  four  hundred  pound, 
And  he  looked  most  uncommonly  tall, 

— monly  tall, 
And  he  looked  most  uncommonly  tall. " 

"  Bravo !  bravo ! "  cried  Travis,  pound- 
ing on  the  table.  "Hear,  hear — none, 
Brutus,  none." 

Condy  sat  down  on  the  table  and 
swung  his  legs.  But  during  the  next 
few  moments,  while  they  were  eating  the 
last  of  their  cheese,  his  good  spirits  fell 
rapidly  away  from  him.  He  heaved  a 
sigh,  and  thrust  both  hands  gloomily 
into  his  pockets. 

"  Cheese,  Condy  ? "  asked  Travis. 

He  shook  his  head  with  a  dark  frown, 
muttering:  "No  cheese,  no  cheese." 

"What's  wrong,  Condy, — what's  the 
matter? "  asked  Travis,  with  concern. 


Blix  8 1 

For  some  time  he  would  not  tell  her 
answering  all  her  inquiries  by  closing  his 
eyes  and  putting  his  chin  in  the  air,  nod- 
ding his  head  in  knowing  fashion. 

"But  what  is  it?" 

"You  don't  respect  me,"  he  muttered; 
and  for  a  long  time  this  was  all  that 
could  be  got  from  him.  No,  no,  she 
did  not  respect  him ;  no,  she  did  not  take 
him  seriously. 

"But  of  course  I  do.  Why  don't  I? 
Condy  Rivers,  what's  got  into  you  now  ? " 

"  No,  no ;  I  know  it.  I  can  tell.  You 
don't  take  me  seriously.  You  don't  re- 
spect me." 

"  But  why?' 

"Make  a  blooming  buffoon  of  myself," 
he  mumbled  tragically. 

In  great  distress  Travis  labored  to  con- 
tradict him.  Why,  they  had  just  been 
having  a  good  time,  that  was  all.  Why, 
she  had  been  just  as  silly  as  he.  Condy 
caught  at  the  word. 

"Silly!     There,    I    knew  it.     I   told 
6 


82  Blix 

you.  I'm  silly.  I'm  a  buffoon. — But 
haven't  we  had  a  great  afternoon?"  he 
added,  with  a  sudden  grin. 

"  I  never  remember,"  announced  Travis 
emphatically,  "when  I've  had  a  better 
time  than  I've  had  to-day ;  and  I  know 
just  why  it's  been  such  a  success.'' 

'Why,  then?' 

"Because  we've  had  no  foolishness. 
We've  just  been  ourselves,  and  haven't 
pretended  we  were  in  love  with  each 
other  when  we  are  not.  Condy,  let's  do 
this  lots." 

"Do  what?" 

"Go  round  to  queer  little,  interesting 
little  places.  We've  had  a  glorious  time 
to-day,  haven't  we? — and  we  haven't  been 
talked  out  once." 

"As  we  were  last  night,  for  instance," 
he  hazarded. 

"  I  thought  you  felt  it,  the  same  as  I 
did.  It  was  a  bit  awful,  wasn't  it?  * 

*It  was." 

"From   now  on,  let's  make  a  resolu' 


Bhx  83 

tion.  I  know  you've  had  a  good  time 
to-day.  Haven't  you  had  a  better  time 
than  if  you  had  gone  to  the  Tea?  " 

"  Well,  rather.  I  don't  know  when 
I've  had  a  better,  jollier  afternoon." 

"  Well,  now,  we're  going  to  try  to  have 
lots  more  good  times,  but  just  as  chums. 
We've  tried  the  other,  and  it  failed.  Now 
be  sincere;  didn't  it  fail?  " 

*  It  worked  out.     It  did  work  out. " 
"  Now  from  this  time  on,  no  more  fool- 
ishness.    We'll  just  be  chums." 

"  Chums  it  is.  No  more  foolishness." 
"The  moment  you  begin  to  pretend 
you're  in  love  with  me,  it  will  spoil 
everything.  It's  funny,"  said  Travis, 
drawing  on  her  gloves.  "  We're  doing  a 
funny  thing,  Condy.  With  ninety-nine 
people  out  of  one  hundred,  this  little  affair 
would  have  been  all  ended  after  our  '  ex- 
planation '  of  last  night — confessing,  as 
we  did,  that  we  didn't  love  each  other. 
Most  couples  would  have  '  drifted  apart ' , 
but  here  \ve  are,  planning  to  be  chums. 


84 

and  have  good  times  in  our  own  original 
unconventional  way  —  and  we  can  do  it 
too.  ThereJ  there,  he's  a  thousand 
miles  away.  He's  not  heard  a  single 
word  I've  said.  Condy,  are  you  listen- 
ing  to  me?  " 

"Blix,"  he  murmured,  staring  at  her 
vaguely.  "Blix  —  you  look  that  way;  I 
don't  know,  look  kind  of  blix.  Don't 
you  feel  sort  of  blix?"  he  inquired  anx- 
ously. 


He  smote  the  table  with  his  palm. 
"  Capital  !  "  he  cried  ;  "  sounds  bully,  and 
snappy,  and  crisp,  and  bright,  and  sort 
of  sudden.  Sounds  —  don't  you  know, 
this  way  ?  '  —  and  he  snapped  his  fingers 
"Don't  you  see  what  I  mean?  Blix, 
that's  who  you  are.  You've  always  been 
Blix,  and  I've  just  found  it  out.  Blix," 
he  added,  listening  to  the  sound  of  the 
name.  "Blix,  Blix.  Yes,  yes;  that's 
your  name." 

*  Blix  ?  "  she  repeated  ;  "  but  why  Blix  ?  ' 


Blix  85 

"Why  not?  * 

"  I  don't  know  why  not  * 

"Well,  then,"  he  declared,  as  though 
that  settled  the  question.  They  made, 
ready  to  go,  as  it  was  growing  late. 

"Will  you  tie  that  for  me,  Condy,"  she 
asked,  rising  and  turning  the  back  of  her 
head  toward  him,  the  ends  of  the  veil 
held  under  her  fingers.  "  Not  too  tight. 
Condy,  don't  pull  it  so  tight.  There, 
there,  that  will  do.  Have  you  every- 
thing that  belongs  to  you?  I  know 
you'll  go  away  and  leave  something  here. 
There's  your  cigarette-case,  and  your 
book,  and  of  course  the  banjo." 

As  if  warned  by  a  mysterious  instinct, 
the  fat  Chinaman  made  his  appearance 
in  the  outer  room.  Condy  put  his  fin- 
gers into  his  vest  pocket,  then  dropped 
back  upon  his  stool  with  a  suppressed 
exclamation  of  horror. 

<c  Condy ! "  exclaimed  Blix  in  alarm, 
"  are  you  sick  ?  " — for  he  had  turned  a 
positive  white. 


*  I  haven't  a  cent  of  money,"  he  inur- 
niured  faintly.     "  I  spent  my  last  quarter 
for  those  beastly  crackers.     What's  to  be 
done?     What  is  to  be  done?     I'll — I'll 
leave  him  my  watch.     Yes,  that's  the 
only  thing.* 

Blix  calmly  took  out  her  purse.  "I 
expected  it,"  she  said  resignedly.  "  I  knew 
this  would  happen  sooner  or  later,  and  1 
always  have  been  prepared.  How  much 
is  it,  John  ? "  she  asked  of  the  Chinaman. 

"Hefadollah." 

"  I'll  never  be  able  to  look  you  in  the 
face  again,"  protested  Condy.  "  I'll  pay 
you  back  to-night.  I  will!  I'll  send 
it  up  by  a  messenger  boy." 

"Then  you  would  be  a  buffoon." 

"Don't!"  he  exclaimed.  "Don't,  it 
humiliates  me  to  the  dust." 

*  Oh,  come  along  and  don't  be  so  ab- 
surd !     It  must  be  after  five." 

Half-way  down  the  brass-bound  stairs, 
he  clapped  his  hand  to  his  head  with  a 
start 


Blix  87 

*  And  now  what  is  it? "  she  inquired 
meekly. 

"  Forgotten,  forgotten !  *  he  exclaimed. 
"I  knew  I  would  forget  something." 

"/knew  it,  you  mean." 

He  ran  back,  and  returned  with  the 
great  bag  of  crackers,  and  thrust  it  into 
her  hands.  *  Here,  here,  take  these.  We 
mustn't  leave  these,"  he  declared  ear- 
nestly. "It  would  be  a  shameful  waste 
of  money  " ;  and  in  spite  of  all  her  pro- 
tests, he  insisted  upon  taking  the  crack- 
ers along. 

"I  wonder,"  said  Blix,  as  the  two 
skirted  the  Plaza,  going  down  to  Kearney 
Street ;  *  I  wonder  if  I  ought  to  ask  him 
to  supper?" 

"Ask  who — me? — how  funny  to ' 

"  I  wonder  if  we  are  talked  out — if  it 
would  spoil  the  day?" 

"  Anyhow,  I'm  going  to  have  supper  at 
the  Club ;  and  I've  got  to  write  my  article 
some  time  to-night." 

Blix  fixed  him  with  a  swift  glance  of 


88  Blix 

genuine  concern.  "  Don't  play  to-night, 
Condy,*  she  said,  with  a  sudden  gravity, 

"Fat  lot  /  can  play!  What  money 
have  I  got  to  play  with? " 

"You  might  get  some  somewheres. 
But,  anyhow,  promise  me  you  won't 
play." 

"Well,  of  course  I'll  promise.  How 
can  I,  if  I  haven't  any  money  ?  And  be- 
sides, I've  got  my  whaleback  stuff  to  write. 
I'll  have  supper  at  the  Club,  and  go  up  in 
the  library  and  grind  out  copy  for  a  while. " 

*  Condy,"  said  Blix, "  I  think  that  diver's 
story  is  almost  too  good  for  TJie  Times. 
Why  don't  you*  write  it  and  send  it  East? 
Send  it  to  the  Centennial  Company,  why 
don't  you?  They've  paid  some  attention 
to  you  now,  and  it  would  keep  your  name 
in  their  minds  if  you  sent  the  story  to 
them,  even  if  they  didn't  publish  it.  Why 
don't  you  think  of  that?  * 

"Fine — great  idea!  I'll  do  that.  Only 
I'll  have  to  write  it  out  of  business  hours 
It  will  be  extra  work." 


Blix  89 

"ITever  mind,  you  do  it;  and,*  she 
added,  as  he  put  her  on  the  cable  car, 
"keep  your  mind  on  that  thirty-thou- 
sand-word story  of  adventure.  Good- 
by,  Condy ;  haven't  we  had  the  jolliest 
day  that  ever  was  ?  " 

"Couldn't  have  been  better.  Good- 
by,  Mix." 

Condy  returned  to  his  club.  It  was 
about  six  o'clock.  In  response  to  his 
question,  the  hall-boy  told  him  that  Tracy 
Sargeant  had  arrived  a  few  moments  pre- 
vious, and  had  been  asking  for  him. 

The  Saturday  cf  the  week  before,  Condy 
had  made  an  engagement  with  young 
Sargeant  to  have  supper  together  that 
night,  and  perhaps  go  to  the  theatre  after- 
ward. And  now  at  the  sight  of  Sargeant 
in  the  "  round  window  "  of  the  main  room, 
buried  in  the  file  of  the  Gil  Bias,  Condy 
was  pleased  to  note  that  neither  of  them 
had  forgotten  the  matter. 

Sargeant  greeted  him  with  extreme 
cordiality  as  he  came  up,  and  at  once 


90  Blix 

proposed  a  drink.  Sargeant  was  a  sleek, 
well-groomed,  well -looking  fellow  of 
thirty,  just  beginning  to  show  the  effects 
of  a  certain  amount  of  dissipation  in  the 
little  puffs  under  the  eyes  and  the  faint 
blueness  of  the  temples.  The  sudden 
death  of  his  father,  for  which  event  Sar- 
geant was  still  mourning,  had  left  him 
in  such  position  that  his  monthly  income 
was  about  five  times  as  large  as  Condy's 
salary.  The  two  had  supper  together, 
and  Sargeant  proposed  the  theatre. 

"No,  no;  I've  got  to  work  to-night,* 
asserted  Condy. 

After  dinner,  while  they  were  smoking 
their  cigars  in  a  window  of  the  main 
room,  one  of  the  hall-boys  came  up  and 
touched  Condy  on  the  arm. 

"Mr.  Eckert,  and  Mr.  Hendricks,  and 
Mr.  George  Hands,  and  several  other  of 
those  gentlemen  are  up  in  the  card -room, 
and  are  asking  for  you  and  Mr.  Sar- 
geant.* 

"Why,  I  didn't  know  the  boys  were 


Biix  91 

here !  They've  got  a  game  going,  Condy. 
Let's  go  up  and  get  in.  Shall  we?  * 

Condy  remembered  that  he  had  no 
money.  "I'm  flat  broke,  Tracy,*  he  an- 
nounced, for  he  knew  Sargeant  well 
enough  to  make  the  confession  without 
wincing.  "No,  I'll  not  get  in;  but  I'll 
go  up  and  watch  you  a  few  minutes." 

They  ascended  to  the  card-room,  where 
the  air  was  heavy  aud  acrid  with  cigar 
smoke,  and  where  the  silence  was  broken 
only  by  the  click  of  poker-chips,  At  the 
end  of  twenty  minutes  Condy  was  play- 
ing, having  borrowed  enough  money  of 
Sargeant  to  start  him  in  the  game. 

Unusually  talkative  and  restless,  he 
had  suddenly  hardened  and  stiffened  to 
a  repressed,  tense  calm ;  speechless,  al- 
most rigid  in  his  chair.  Excitable  under 
even  ordinary  circumstances,  his  every 
faculty  was  now  keyed  to  its  highest 
pitch.  The  nervous  strain  upon  him  was 
like  the  stretching  and  tightening  of  harp- 
strings,  too  taut  to  quiver.  The  color 


92  Blix 

left  his  face,  and  the  moisture  fled  his 
lips.     His  projected  article,  his  promise 
'v/  to  Blix,  all  the  jollity  of  the  afternoon, 

all  thought  of  time  or  place,  faded  away 
as  the  one  indomitable,  evil  passion  of 
the  man  leaped  into  life  within  him,  and 
lashed  and  rowelled  him  with  excite* 
ment.  His  world  resolved  itself  to  a 
round  green  table,  columns  of  tri-colored 
chips,  and  five  ever- changing  cards  that 
came  and  went  and  came  again  before 
his  tired  eyes  like  the  changing,  weaving 
colors  of  the  kaleidoscope.  Midnight 
struck,  then  one  o'clock,  then  two,  three, 
and  four.  Still  his  passion  rode  him  like 
a  hag,  spurring  the  jaded  body,  rousing 
up  the  wearied  brain. 

Finally,  at  half -past  four,  at  a  time 
when  Condy  was  precisely  where  he  had 
started,  neither  winner  nor  loser  by  so 
much  as  a  dime,  a  round  of  Jack-pots  was 
declared,  and  the  game  broke  up.  Condy 
walked  home  to  the  uptown  hotel  where 
he  lived  with  his  mother,  and  went  to 


Khx  93 

bed  as  the  first  milk -wagons  began  to 
make  their  appearance  and  the  news- 
boys to  cry  the  morning  papers. 

Then,  as  his  tired  eyes  closed  at  last, 
occurred  that  strange  trick  of  picture- 
making  that  the  overtaxed  brain  plays 
upon  the  retina.  A  swift  series  of  pic- 
tures of  the  day's  doings  began  to  whirl 
through  rather  than  before  the  pupils  of 
his  shut  eyes.  Condy  saw  again  a  brief 
vision  of  the  street,  and  Blix  upon  the 
corner  waiting  to  cross ;  then  it  was  the 
gay,  brisk  confusion  of  the  water-front, 
the  old  mate's  cabin  aboard  the  whale- 
back,  Chinatown,  and  a  loop  of  vermilion 
cloth  over  a  gallery  rail,  the  golden  bal- 
cony, the  glint  of  the  Stevenson  ship  upon 
the  green  Plaza,  Blix  playing  the  banjo, 
the  delightful  and  picturesque  confusion 
of  the  deserted  Chinese  restaurant;  Blix 
again,  turning  her  head  for  him  to  fasten 
her  veil,  holding  the  ends  with  her  white- 
kid  lingers ;  Blix  once  more,  walking  at 
his  side  with  her  trim  black  skirt,  her 


94  Blix 

round  little  turban  hat,  her  yellow  hair, 
and  her  small  dark,  dancing  eyes. 

Then,  suddenly,  he  remembered  the 
promise  he  had  made  her  in  the  matter 
of  playing  that  night.  He  winced  sharply 
at  this,  and  the  remembrance  of  his  fault 
harried  and  harassed  him.  In  spite  of 
himself,  he  felt  contemptible.  Yet  he 
had  broken  his  promises  to  her  in  this 
very  matter  of  playing  before — before 
that  day  of  their  visit  to  the  Chinese 
restaurant — and  had  felt  no  great  qualm 
of  self-reproach.  Had  their  relations 
changed?  Rather  the  reverse,  for  they 
had  done  with  "foolishness." 

"Never  worried  me  before,"  muttered 
Condy,  as  he  punched  up  his  pillow ,- 
"never  worried  me  before.  Why  should 
it  worry  me  now — worry  me  like  the 
devil ; — and  she  caught  on  to  that  'point ' 
about  the  slope  of  forty-five  degrees." 


CONDY  began  his  week's  work  for  the 
supplement  behindhand.  Naturally  he 
overslept  himself  Tuesday  morning,  and, 
not  having  any  change  in  his  pockets, 
was  obliged  to  walk  down  to  the  office. 
He  arrived  late,  to  find  the  compositors 
already  fretting  for  copy,  His  editor 
promptly  asked  for  the  whaleback  stuff, 
and  Condy  was  forced  into  promising  it 
within  a  half -hour.  It  was  out  of  the 
question  to  write  the  article  according  to 
his  own  idea  in  so  short  a  time ;  so  Condy 
faked  the  stuff  from  the  exchange  clip- 
ping, after  all,  His  description  of  the 
boat  and  his  comments  upon  her  mis- 
sion— taken  largely  at  second  hand — 
served  only  to  fill  space  in  the  paper 
They  were  lacking  both  in  interest  and 
in  point  There  were  no  illustrations 
Tlie  article  was  a  failure. 


g6  Blix 

But  Condy  redeemed  himself  by  a  witty 
interview  later  in  the  week  with  an  emo- 
tional actress,  and  by  a  solemn  article — . 
compiled  after  an  hour's  reading  in  Laf- 
cadio  Hearn  and  the  Encyclopedia — on 
the  "Industrial  Renaissance  in  Japan." 

But  the  idea  of  the  diver's  story  came 
hack  to  him  again  and  again,  and  Thurs- 
day flight  after  supper  he  went  down  to 
his  club,  and  hid  himself  at  a  corner  desk 
in  the  library,  and,  in  a  burst  of  enthusi- 
asm, wrote  out  some  two  thousand  words 
of  it.  In  order  to  get  the  "technical 
details,"  upon  which  he  set  such  store, 
he  consulted  the  Encyclopedias  again, 
and  "  worked  in  "  a  number  of  unfamiliar 
phrases  and  odd-sounding  names.  He 
was  so  proud  of  the  result  that  he  felt  he 
could  not  wait  until  the  tale  was  finished 
and  in  print  to  try  its  effect.  He  wanted 
appreciation  and  encouragement  upon  the 
instant.  He  thought  of  Blix. 

"She  saw  the  point-  in  Morrowbie 
Jukes'  description  of  the  slope  of  the 


Blix  97 

sandhill,"  he  told  himself;  and  the  next 
moment  had  resolved  to  go  up  and  see 
her  the  next  evening,  and  read  to  her 
what  he  had  written. 

This  was  on  Thursday.  All  through 
that  week  Blix  had  kept  much  to  herself, 
and  for  the  first  time  in  two  years  had 
begun  to  spend  every  evening  at  home. 
In  the  morning  of  each  day  she  helped 
Victorine  with  the  upstairs  work,  mak- 
ing the  beds,  putting  the  rooms  to  rights ; 
or  consulted  with  the  butcher's  and  gro- 
cer's boys  at  the  head  of  the  back  stairs, 
or  chaffered  with  urbane  and  smiling 
Chinamen  with  their  balanced  vegetable 
baskets.  She  knew  the  house  and  its 
management  at  her  fingers'  ends,  and 
supervised  everything  that  went  forward. 
Laurie  Flagg  coming  to  call  upon  her, 
on  Wednesday  afternoon,  to  remonstrate 
upon  her  sudden  defection,  found  her  in 
the  act  of  tacking  up  a  curtain  across  the 
pantry  window. 

But  Blix  had  the  afternoons  and  even- 
7 


98  Blue 

ings  almost  entirely  to  herself.  These 
hours,  heretofore  taken  up  with  functions 
and  the  discharge  of  obligations,  dragged 
not  a  little  during  the  week  that  followed 
upon  her  declaration  of  independence 
Wednesday  afternoon,  however,  was  warm 
and  fine,  and  she  went  to  the  Park  with 
Snooky.  Without  looking  for  it  or  even 
expecting  it,  Blix  came  across  a  little 
Japanese  tea-house,  or  rather  a  tiny  Jap- 
anese garden,  set  with  almost  toy  Japa- 
nese houses  and  pavilions,  where  tea  was 
served  and  thin  sweetish  wafers  for  five 
cents,  Blix  and  Snooky  went  in.  There 
was  nobody  about  but  the  Japanese  serv- 
ing woman.  Snooky  was  in  raptures, 
and  Blix  spent  a  delightful  half-hour 
theie,  drinking  Japanese  tea,  and  feed- 
ing the  wafers  to  the  carp  and  gold-fish 
in  the  tiny  pond  immediately  below 
where  she  sat.  A  Chinaman,  evidently 
of  the  merchant  class,  came  in,  with  a 
Chinese  woman  following.  As  he  took 
his  place  and  the  Japanese  girl  came  up 


Blix  99 

to  get  his  order,  Blix  overheard  him  say 
in  English:  "Bring  tea  for-um  leddy." 

"He  had  to  speak  in  English  to  her," 
she  whispered ;  "isn't  that  splendid!  Did 
you  notice  that,  Snooky  ?" 

On  the  way  home  Blix  was  wondering 
how  she  should  pass  her  evening.  She 
was  to  have  made  one  of  a  theatre  party 
where  Jack  Carter  was  to  be  present. 
Then  she  suddenly  remembered  "Mor- 
rowbie  Jukes,"  "The  Eeturn  of  Imri," 
and  "Krishna  Mulvaney."  She  contin- 
ued on  past  her  home,  downtown,  and 
returned  late  for  supper  with  "Plain 
Tales  "  and  "Many  Inventions." 

Toward  half-past  eight  there  came  a 
titter  of  the  electric  bell.  At  the  mo- 
ment Blix  was  in  the  upper  chamber  of 
the  house  of  Suddhoo,  quaking  with  ex- 
quisite horror  at  the  Seal-cutter's  magic. 
She  looked  up  quickly  as  the  bell  rang. 
It  was  not  Condy  Rivers'  touch.  She 
swiftly  reflected  that  it  was  Wednesday 
night,  and  that  she  might  probably  ex- 


I  oo  Blix 

pect  Frank  Catlin.  He  was  a  fair  speci- 
men of  the  Younger  Set,  a  sort  of  modi- 
fied Jack  Carter,  and  called  upon  her 
about  once  a  fortnight.  No  doubt  he 
would  hint  darkly  as  to  his  riotous  liv- 
ing during  the  past  few  days  and  refer  to 
his  diet  of  bromo-seltzers.  He  would  be 
slangy,  familiar,  call  her  by  her  first 
name  as  many  times  as  he  dared,  discuss 
the  last  dance  of  the  Saturday  cotillion, 
and  try  to  make  her  laugh  over  Carter's 
drunkenness.  Blix  knew  the  type.  Cat- 
lin was  hardly  out  of  college ;  but  the 
older  girls,  even  the  young  women  of 
twenty  five  or  six,  encouraged  and  petted 
these  youngsters,  driven  to  the  alterna- 
tive by  the  absolute  dearth  of  older 
men. 

"I'm  not  at  home,  Victorine,"  an- 
nounced Blix,  intercepting  the  maid  in 
the  hall.  It  chanced  that  it  was  not 
Frank  Catlin,  but  another  boy  of  pre- 
cisely the  same  breed ;  and  Blix  returned 
to  Suddhoo,  Mrs.  Hawksbee,  and  MuJ- 


Blix  i  o  i 

vaney  with  a  little  cuddling  movement 
of  satisfaction. 

"  There  is  only  one  thing  I  regret  about 
this,"  she  said  to  Condy  Eivers  on  the 
Friday  night  of  that  week;  "that  is,  that 
I  never  thought  of  doing  it  before. "  Then 
suddenly  she  put  up  her  hand  to  shield 
her  eyes,  as  though  from  an  intense  light, 
turning  away  her  head  abruptly. 

" I  say,  what  it  it?  What — what's  the 
matter?"  he  exclaimed. 

Blix  peeped  at  him  fearfully  from  be- 
tween her  fingers.  "He's  got  it  on,"  she 
whispered, — "that  awful  crimson  scarf." 

"  Hoh ! "  said  Condy,  touching  his  scarf 
nervously,  a  it's — it's  very  swell.  Is  it 
too  loud?  *  he  asked  uneasily. 

Blix  put  her  fingers  in  her  ears;  then: 

*  Condy,  you're  a  nice,  amiable  young 
man,  and,  if  you're  not  brilliant,  you're 
good  and  kind  to  your  aged  mother;  but 
your  scarfs  and  neckties  are  simply  im- 
possible." 

"  Well,  look  at  this  room ! "  he  shouted 


102  Blix 

— they  were  in  the  parlor.  *  You  needn't 
talk  about  bad  taste.  Those  drapes — 
oh-h  1  those  drapes  i  I  Yellow,  s'help 
me !  And  those  bisque  figures  that  you 
get  with  every  pound  of  tea  you  buy; 
and  this,  this,  this*  he  whimpered,  wav- 
ing his  hands  at  the  decorated  sewer- 
pipe  with  its  gilded  cat-tails.  *  Oh,  speak 
to  me  of  this ;  speak  to  me  of  art ;  speak 
to  me  of  aesthetics.  Cat- tails,  gilded.  Of 
course,  why  not,  gilded  /  "  He  wrung 
his  hands.  " '  Somewhere  people  are 
happy.  Somewhere  little  children  are 
at  play '  ' 

*  Oh,  hush  1  *  she  interrupted.  "  I  know 
it's  bad ;  but  we've  always  had  it  so,  and 
I  won't  have  it  abused.  Let's  go  into 
the  dining-room  anyway.  We'll  sit  in 
there  after  this.  We've  always  been  stiff 
and  constrained  in  here." 

They  went  out  into  the  dining-room, 
and  drew  up  a  couple  of  arm-chairs  into 
the  bay  window,  and  sat  there  looking 
out.  Blix  had  not  yet  lit  the  gas — it 


Blix  103 

was  hardly  dark  enough  for  that;  and 
for  upward  of  ten  minutes  they  sat  and 
watched  the  evening  dropping  into  night. 
Below  them  the  hill  fell  away  so 
abruptly  that  the  roofs  of  the  nearest 
houses  were  almost  at  their  feet;  and 
beyond  these  the  city  tumbled  raggedly 
down  to  meet  the  bay  in  a  confused, 
vague  mass  of  roofs,  cornices,  cupolas,  and 
chimneys,  blurred  and  indistinct  in  the 
twilight,  but  here  and  there  pierced  by 
a  new-lit  street  lamp.  Then  came  the 
bay.  To  the  east  they  could  see  Goat 
Island,  and  the  fleet  of  sailing-ships  an- 
chored off  the  water-front;  while  directly 
in  their  line  of  vision  the  island  of  Alca- 
traz,  with  its  triple  crown  of  forts,  started 
from  the  surface  of  the  water.  Beyond 
was  the  Contra  Costa  shore,  a  vast  streak 
of  purple  against  the  sky.  The  eye  fol- 
lowed its  sky-line  westward  till  it  climbed, 
climbed,  climbed  up  a  long  slope  that 
suddenly  leaped  heavenward  with  the 
crest  of  Tamalpais,  purple  and  still,  look- 


Blix 


ing  always  to  the  sunset  like  a  great 
watching  sphinx.  Then,  farther  on,  the 
slope  seemed  to  break  like  the  breaking 
of  an  advancing  billow,  and  go  tumbling, 
crumbling  downward  to  meet  the  Golden 
Gate—  the  narrow  inlet  of  green  tide- 
water with  its  flanking  Presidio.  But, 
farther  than  this,  the  eye  was  stayed. 
Farther  than  this  there  was  nothing, 
nothing  but  a  vast,  illimitable  plain  of 
green  —  the  open  Pacific.  But  at  this 
hour  the  color  of  the  scene  was  its 
greatest  charm.  It  glowed  with  all  the 
sombre  radiance  of  a  cathedral.  Every- 
thing was  seen  through  a  haze  of  purple 
—  from  the  low  green  hills  in  the  Presidio 
reservation  to  the  faint  red  mass  of  Mount 
Diablo  shrugging  its  rugged  shoulder 
over  the  Contra  Costa  foot-hills.  As  the 
evening  faded,  the  west  burned  down  to 
a  dull  red  glow  that  overlaid  the  blue  of 
the  bay  with  a  sheen  of  ruddy  gold.  The 
foot-hills  of  the  opposite  shore,  Diablo, 
and  at  last  even  Tamalpais,  resolved 


Blix  105 

themselves  in  the  velvet  gray  of  the  sky. 
Outlines  were  lost.  Only  the  masses  re- 
mained, and  these  soon  began  to  blend 
into  one  another.  The  sky,  and  land,  and 
the  city's  huddled  roofs  were  one.  Only 
the  sheen  of  dull  gold  remained,  piercing 
the  single  vast  mass  of  purple  like  the 
blade  of  a  golden  sword. 

"  There's  a  ship  1  *  said  Blix  in  a  low 
tone. 

A  four-master  was  dropping  quietly 
through  the  Golden  Gate,  swimming  on 
that  sheen  of  gold,  a  mere  shadow,  specked 
with  lights,  red  and  green.  In  a  few 
moments  her  bows  were  shut  from  sight 
by  the  old  fort  at  the  Gate.  Then  her 
red  light  vanished,  then  the  mainmast 
She  was  gone.  By  midnight  she  would 
be  out  of  sight  of  land,  rolling  on  the 
swell  of  the  lonely  ocean  under  the 
moon's  white  eye. 

Condy  and  Blix  sat  quiet  and  without 
speech,  not  caring  to  break  the  charm  of 
Uie  evening.  For  quite  five  minutes  they 


io6  Bhx 

sat  thus,  watching  the  stars  light  one  by 
one,  and  the  immense  gray  night  settle 
and  broaden  and  widen  from  mountain- 
top  to  horizon.  They  did  not  feel  the 
necessity  of  making  conversation.  There 
was  no  constraint  in  their  silence  now. 

Gently,  and  a  little  at  a  time,  Condy 
turned  his  head  and  looked  at  Blix. 
There  was  just  light  enough  to  see.  She 
was  leaning  back  in  her  chair,  her  hands 
fallen  into  her  lap,  her  head  back  and 
a  little  to  one  side.  As  usual,  she  was 
in  black;  but  now  it  was  some  sort  of 
dinner-gown  that  left  her  arms  and  neck 
bare.  The  line  of  the  chin  and  the 
throat  and  the  sweet  round  curve  of  the 
shoulder  had  in  it  something  indescribable 
— something  that  was  related  to  music, 
and  that  eluded  speech.  Her  hair  was 
nothing  more  than  a  warm  colored  mist 
without  form  or  outline.  The  sloe-brown 
of  her  little  eyes  and  the  flush  of  her 
cheek  were  mere  inferences, — like  the 
faintest  stars  that  are  never  visible  when 


Blix  1 07 

looked  at  directly ;  and  it  seemed  to  him 
that  there  was  disengaged  from  her  some- 
thing for  which  there  was  no  name; 
something  that  appealed  to  a  mysterious 
sixth  sense — a  sense  that  only  stirred  at 
such  quiet  moments  as  this;  something 
that  was  now  a  dim,  sweet  radiance,  now 
a  faint  aroma,  and  now  again  a  mere  es- 
sence, an  influence,  an  impression — noth- 
ing more.  It  seemed  to  him  as  if  her 
sweet,  clean  purity  and  womanliness  took 
a  form  of  its  own  which  his  accustomed 
senses  were  too  gross  to  perceive.  Only 
a  certain  vague  tenderness  in  him  went 
out  to  meet  and  receive  this  impalpable 
presence ;  a  tenderness  not  for  her  only, 
but  for  all  the  good  things  of  the  world. 
Often  he  had  experienced  the  same  feel- 
ing when  listening  to  music.  Her  sweet- 
ness, her  goodness,  appealed  to  what  he 
guessed  must  be  the  noblest  in  him. 
And  she  was  only  nineteen.  Suddenly 
his  heart  swelled,  the  ache  came  to  his 
throat  and  the  smart  to  his  eyes. 


io8  Blix 

*Blixy,"  he  said,  just  above  a  whisper; 
"  Blixy,  wish  I  was  a  better  sort  of  chap.* 

"That's  the  beginning  of  being  better, 
isn't  it,  Condy?"  she  answered,  turning 
toward  him,  her  chin  on  her  hand. 

"It  does  seem  a  pity,"  he  went  on, 
"that  when  you  want  to  do  the  right, 
straight  thing,  and  be  clean  and  fine,  that 
you  can't  just  be  it,  and  have  it  over 
with.  It's  the  keeping  it  up  that's  the 
grind." 

*  But  it's  the  keeping  it  up,  Condy,  that 
makes  you  worth  "being  good  when  you 
finally  get  to  be  good;  don't  you  think? 
It's  the  keeping  it  up  that  makes  you 
strong;  and  then  when-  you  get  to  be 
good  you  can  make  your  goodness  count. 
What's  a  good  man  if  he's  weak? — if  his 
goodness  is  better  than  he  is  himself? 
It's  the  good  man  who  is  strong — as 
strong  as  his  goodness,  and  who  can  make 
his  goodness  count — who  is  the  right  kind 
of  man.  That's  what  I  think. " 

"There's   something    in    that,  there's 


Blix  1 09 

something  in  that. "  Then,  after  a  pause  : 
"  I  played  Monday  night  after  all,  Blix, 
after  promising  I  wouldn't." 

For  a  time  she  did  not  answer,  and 
when  she  spoke,  she  spoke  quietly :  "  Well 
— I'm  glad  you  told  me  " ;  and  after  a 
little  she  added, "  Can't  you  stop,  Condy  ?  * 

"Why  yes — yes,  of  course — I — oh, 
Blix,  sometimes  I  don't  know!  You 
can't  understand!  How  could  a  girl 
understand  the  power  of  it?  Other 
things,  I  don't  say ;  but  when  it  comes  to 
gambling,  there  seems  to  be  another  me 
that  does  precisely  as  he  chooses,  whether 
/  will  or  not.  But  I'm  going  to  do  my 
best.  I  haven't  played  since,  although 
there  was  plenty  of  chance.  You  see, 
this  card  business  is  only  a  part  of  this 
club  life,  this  city  life — like  drinking  and 
— other  vices  of  men.  If  I  didn't  have 
to  lead  the  life,  or  if  I  didn't  go  with 
that  crowd — Sargeant  and  the  rest  of 
those  men — it  would  be  different ;  easier, 


no  Blix 

"  But  a  man  ought  to  be  strong  enough 
to  be  himself  and  master  of  himself 
anywhere.  Condy,  is  there  anything  in 
the  world  better  or  finer  than  a  strong 
man?" 

"Not  unless  it  is  a  good  woman,  Blix." 

"  I  suppose  I  look  at  it  from  a  woman's 
point  of  view;  but  for  me,  a  strong  man 
— strong  in  everything — is  the  grandest 
thing  in  the  world.  Women  love  strong 
men,  Condy.  They  can  forgive  a  strong 
man  almost  anything." 

Condy  did  not  immediately  answer, 
and  in  the  interval  an  idea  occurred  to 
Blix  that  at  once  hardened  into  a  deter- 
mination. But  she  said  nothing  at  the 
moment.  The  spell  of  the  sunset  was 
gone,  and  they  had  evidently  reached  the 
end  of  that  subject  of  their  talk.  Blix 
rose  to  light  the  gas.  Will  you  promise 
me  one  thing,  Condy  ? "  she  said.  "  Don't, 
if  you  don't  want  to.  But  will  you 
promise  me  that  you  will  tell  me  when- 
ever youdoplay?* 


Blix  1 1 1 

"That  I'll  promise  you!"  exclaimed 
Condy;  "and  I'll  keep  that,  too." 

"And  now,  let's  hear  the  story — or 
what  you've  done  of  it." 

They  drew  up  to  the  dining-room  table 
with  its  cover  of  blue  denim  edged  with 
white  cord,  and  Condy  unrolled  his  manu- 
script and  read  through  what  he  had 
written.  She  approved,  and,  as  he  had 
foreseen, K  caught  on  "  to  every  one  of  his 
points.  He  was  almost  ready  to  burst 
into  cheers  when  she  said: 

"Any  one  reading  that  would  almost 
believe  you  had  been  a  diver  yourself,  or 
at  least  had  lived  with  divers.  Those 
little  details  count,  don't  they?  Condy, 
I've  an  idea.  See  what  you  think  of  it. 
Instead  of  having  the  story  end  with  his 
leaving  her  down  there  and  going  away, 
do  it  this  way.  Let  him  leave  her  there, 
and  then  go  back  after  a  long  time  when 
he  gets  to  be  an  old  man.  Fix  it  up 
some  way  to  make  it  natural.  Have  him 
go  down  to  see  her  and  never  come  up 


1 1 2  Blix 

again,  see  ?  And  leave  the  reader  in  doubt 
as  to  whether  it  was  an  accident  or 
whether  he  did  it  on  purpose." 

Condy  choked  back  a  whoop  and  smote 
his  knee.  "Blix,  you're  the  eighth  won- 
der !  Magnificent  —  glorious !  Say ! " — 
he  fixed  her  with  a  glance  of  curiosity — 
"  you  ought  to  take  to  story- writing  your- 
self." 

"No,  no,"  she  retorted  significantly. 
"I'll  just  stay  with  my  singing  and  be 
content  with  that.  But  remember  that 
story  don't  go  to  The  Times  supplement. 
At  least  not  until  you  have  tried  it  East, 
— with  the  Centennial  Company,  at  any 
rate." 

"  Well,  I  guess  not  I  *  snorted  Condy. 
"  Why,  this  is  going  to  be  one  of  the  best 
yarns  I  ever  wrote." 

A  little  later  on,  he  inquired  with 
sudden  concern :  *  Have  you  got  anything 
to  eat  in  the  house?" 

"  T  never  saw  such  a  man ! "  declared 
Blix;  "you  are  always  hungry." 


Blix  x  1 3 

"I  love  to  eat,"  he  protested. 

"  Well,  we'll  make  some  creamed  oys- 
ters; how  would  that  do?"  suggested 
Blix. 

Condy  rolled  his  eyes.  "Oh,  speak 
to  me  of  creamed  oysters ! "  Then,  with 
abrupt  solemnity :  "  Blix,  I  never  in  my 
life  had  as  many  oysters  as  I  could  eat." 

She  made  the  creamed  oysters  in 
the  kitchen  over  the  gas-stove,  and 
they  ate  them  there, — Condy  sitting  on 
the  wash-board  of  the  sink,  his  plate  in 
his  lap. 

Condy  had  a  way  of  catching  up  in  his 
hands  whatever  happened  to  be  nearest 
him,  and  while  still  continuing  to  talk, 
examining  it  with  apparent  deep  interest. 
Just  now  it  happened  to  be  the  morning's 
paper  that  Victorine  had  left  on  the  table. 
For  five  minutes  Condy  had  been  picking 
it  up  and  laying  it  down,  frowning  ab- 
stractedly at  it  during  the  'pauses  in 
the  conversation.  Suddenly  he  became 
aware  of  what  it  was,  and  instantly 
8 


read  aloud  the  first  item  that  caught  his 
glance: 

" '  Personal. — Young  woman,  thirty- 
one,  good  housekeeper,  desires  acquaint- 
ance respectable  middle-aged  gentleman. 
Object,  matrimony.  Address  K.  D.  B., 
this  office.' — Hum!"  he  commented, 
"nothing  equivocal  about  K.  D.  B. ;  has 
the  heroism  to  call  herself  young  at  thir- 
ty-one. I'll  bet  she  is  a  good  house- 
keeper. Eight  to  the  point.  If  K.  D. 
B.  don't  see  what  she  wants,  she  asks 
for  it." 

"I  wonder,"  mused  Blix,  "what  kind 
of  people  they  are  who  put  personals  in 
the  papers.  K.  D.  B.,  for  instance;  who 
is  she,  and  what  is  she  like?" 

"They're  not  tough,"  Condy  assured 
her.  "  I  see  'em  often  down  at  The  Times 
office.  They  are  usually  a  plain,  matter- 
of-fact  sort,  quite  conscientious,  you 
know;  generally  middle-aged — or  thirty- 
one;  outgrown  their  youthful  follies  and 
illusions,  and  want  to  settle  down." 


Blix  115 

"Read  some  more,*  urged  Blix. 
Condy  went  on. 

" '  Bachelor,  good  habits,  twenty-five, 
affectionate  disposition,  accomplishments, 
money,  desires  acquaintance  pretty,  re- 
fined girl.  Object,  matrimony.  McB., 
this  office.* 

"No,  I  don't  like  McB.,"  said  Blix, 
'He's  too — ornamental,  somehow." 

"He  wouldn't  do  for  X.  D.  B.,  would 
he?" 

"Oh,  my,  no!  He'd  make  her  very 
unhappy." 

"'Widower,  two  children,  home-loving 
disposition,  desires  introduction  to  good, 
honest  woman  to  make  home  for  his  chil- 
dren. Matrimony,  if  suitable.  B.  P.  T., 
Box  A,  this  office." 

"He's  not  for  K.  D.  B.,  that's  flat," 
declared  Blix ;  "  the  idea,  *  matrimony  if 
suitable/ — patronizing  enough  I  I  know 
just  what  kind  of  an  old  man  B.  P.  T. 
is.  I  know  he  would  want  K.  D.  B.  to 
warm  his  slippers,  and  would  be  fretful 


n6  Blix 

and  grumpy.  B.  P.  T.,  just  an  abbrevi- 
ation of  bumptious,  No,  he  can't  have 
her/ 

Condy  read  the  next  two  or  three  to 
himself,  despite  her  protests. 

*  Condy,  don't  be  mean!     Head  them 

"Ah I*  he  exclaimed,  "here's  one  for 
K.  D.  B.  Behold,  the  bridegroom  com- 
eth!  Listen." 

"'Bachelor,  thirty -nine,  sober  and  in- 
dustrious, retired  sea  captain,  desires 
acquaintance  respectable  young  woman, 
good  housekeeper  and  manager.  Object, 
matrimony.  Address  Captain  Jack, 
office  this  paper.'  * 

"  I  know  he's  got  a  wooden  leg  1"  cried 
Blix.  "  Can't  you  just  see  it  sticking  out 
between  the  lines?  And  he  lives  all 
alone  somewhere  down  near  the  bay  with 
a  parrot " 

"And  makes  a  glass  of  grog  every 
night." 

"And  smokes  a  long  clay  pipe.* 


Blix  117 

*  But  he  chews  tobacco/ 

"  Yes,  isn't  it  a  pity  he  will  chew  that 
nasty,  smelly  tobacco?  But  K.  D.  B.  will 
break  him  of  that." 

"Oh,  is  he  for  K.  D.  B.?" 

"  Sent  by  Providence  1 "  declared  Blix. 
"They  were  born  for  each  other.  Just 
see,  K.  D.  is  a  good  housekeeper,  and 
wants  a  respectable  middle-aged  gentle- 
man. Captain  Jack  is  a  respectable  mid- 
dle-aged gentleman,  and  wants  a  good 
housekeeper.  Oh,  and  besides,  I  can  read 
between  the  lines !  I  just  feel  they  would 
be  congenial.  If  they  know  what's  best 
for  themselves,  they  would  write  to  each 
other  right  away." 

"But  wouldn't  you  love  to  be  there 
and  see  them  meetl"  exclaimed  Condy. 

"  Can't  we  fix  it  up  some  way,"  said 
Blix,  "to  bring  these  two  together, — to 
help  them  out  in  some  way  ?  * 

Condy  smote  the  table,  and  jumped  to 
his  feet. 

*  Write  to  'em !  "  he  shouted.     "  Write 


n8  Bhx 

to  K.  D.  B.  and  sign  it  Captain  Jack,  and 
write  to  Captain  Jack * 

"And  sign  it  K.  D.  B.,"  she  inter- 
rupted, catching  his  idea. 

"And  have  him  tell  her,  and  her  tell 
him,"  he  added,  "to  meet  at  some  place; 
and  then  we  can  go  to  that  place  and 
hide,  and  watch." 

"But  how  will  we  know  them?  How 
would  they  know  each  other?  They've 
never  met." 

"We'll  tell  them  both  to  wear  a  kind 
of  flower.  Then  we  can  know  them,  and 
they  can  know  each  other.  Of  course  as 
soon  as  they  began  to  talk  they  would 
find  out  they  hadn't  written." 

"But  they  wouldn't  care." 

"  Ko — they  want  to  meet  each  other. 
They  would  be  thankful  to  us  for  bring- 
ing them  together." 

"Won't  it  be  the  greatest  fun?" 

"Fun!  Why,  it  will  be  a  regulai 
drama.  Only  we  are  running  the  show, 
and  everything  is  real.  Let's  get  at  it : ' 


Blix  119 

Blix  ran  into  her  room  and  returned 
with  writing  material.  Condy  looked  at 
the  note-paper  critically.  "This  kind's 
too  swell.  K.  D.  B.  wouldn't  use  Irish 
linen — never !  Here,  this  is  better,  glazed 
with  blue  lines  and  a  flying  bird  stamped 
in  the  corner.  Now  I'll  write  for  the 
Captain,  and  you  write  for  K.  D.  B." 

"But  where  will  we  have  them  meet?  * 

This  was  a  point.  They  considered 
the  Chinese  restaurant,  the  Plaza,  Lotta's 
fountain,  the  Mechanics'  Library,  and 
even  the  cathedral  over  in  the  Mexican 
quarter,  but  arrived  at  no  decision. 

"Did  you  ever  hear  of  Luna's  restau- 
rant?" said  Condy.  "By  Jove,  it's  just 
the  place !  It's  the  restaurant  where  you 
get  Mexican  dinners ;  right  in  the  heart 
of  the  Latin  quarter;  quiet  little  old- 
fashioned  place,  below  the  level  of  the 
street,  respectable  as  a  tomb.  I  was 
there  just  once.  We'll  have  'em  meet 
there  at  seven  in  the  evening.  No  one 
13  there  at  that  hour.  The  place  isn't 


1 20  Blix 

patronized  much,  and  it  shuts  up  a: 
eight.  You  and  I  can  go  there  and  have 
dinner  at  six,  say,  and  watch  for  them  to 
come." 

Then  they  set  to  work  at  their  letters. 

"Now,*  said  Condy,  "we  must  have 
these  sound  perfectly  natural,  because  if 
either  of  these  people  smell  the  smallest 
kind  of  a  rat;  you  won't  catch  'em. 
You  must  write  not  as  you  would  write, 
but  as  you  think  they  would.  This  is  an 
art,  a  kind  of  fiction,  don't  you  see?  We 
must  imagine  a  certain  character,  and 
write  a  letter  consistent  with  that  char- 
acter. Then  it'll  sound  natural.  Now, 
K.  D.  B.  Well,  K  D.  B.,  she's  prim. 
Let's  have  her  prim,  and  proud  of  using 
correct,  precise,  *  elegant  *  language.  I 
guess  she  wears  mits,  and  believes  in  cre- 
mation. Let's  have  her  believe  in  crema- 
tion. And  Captain  Jack;  oh!  he's  got  a 
terrible  voice,  like  this,  row-row-row, 
see?  and  whiskers,  very  fierce;  and  he 
says,  '  Belay  there ! '  and  Avast :  and  is 


Blix  121 

very  grandiloquent  and  orotund  and  gal- 
lant when  it  comes  to  women.  Oh,  he's 
the  devil  of  a  man  when  it  <jomes  to 
women,  is  Captain  Jack !  " 

After  countless  trials  and  failures,  they 
evolved  the  two  following  missives,  which 
Condy  posted  that  night: 

Captain  Jack. 

SIE  : — I  have  perused  with  entire  sat- 
isfaction your  personal  in  The  Times.  I 
should  like  to  know  more  of  you.  I  read 
between  the  lines,  and  my  perception  in- 
eradicably  convinces  me  that  you  are  hon- 
est and  respectable.  I  do  not  believe  I 
should  compromise  my  self-esteem  at  all 
in  granting  you  an  interview.  I  shall  be 
at  Luna's  restaurant  at  seven  precisely, 
next  Monday  eve,  and  will  bear  a  bunch 
of  white  marguerites.  Will  you  likewise, 
and  wear  a  marguerite  in  your  lapel  ? 

Trusting  this  will  find  you  in  health, 
I  am 

Respectfully  yours, 

K.  D.  B. 

Miss  K.  D.  B. 

DEAR  Miss: — From  the  modest  and 
retiring  description  of  your  qualities  and 


122  Blix 

character,  I  am  led  to  believe  that  I  will 
find  in  you  an  agreeable  life  companion. 
Will  you  not  accord  me  the  great  favor 
of  a  personal  interview?  I  shall  esteem 
it  a  high  honor.  I  will  be  at  Luna's 
Mexican  restaurant  at  seven  of  the  clock 
P.M.  on  Monday  evening  next.  May  I 
express  the  fervent  hope  that  you  also 
will  be  there?  I  name  the  locality  be- 
cause it  is  quiet  and  respectable.  I  shall 
wear  a  white  marguerite  in  my  button- 
hole. Will  you  also  carry  a  bunch  of 
the  same  flower? 

Yours  to  command, 

CAPTAIN  JACK. 


So  great  was  her  interest  in  the  affah 
that  Blix  even  went  out  with  Condy 
while  he  mailed  the  letters  in  the  nearest 
box,  for  he  was  quite  capable  of  forget- 
ting the  whole  matter  as  soon  as  he  was 
out  of  the  house. 

"  Now  let  it  work ! "  she  exclaimed  as 
the  iron  flap  clanked  down  upon  the 
disappearing  envelopes.  But  Condy  was 
suddenly  smitten  with  nameless  misgiv- 
ing. "Now  we've  done  it!  now  we've 


BHx  1 23 

done  it!"  he  cried  aghast.  "I  wish  we 
hadn't.  We're  in  a  fine  fix  now." 

Still  uneasy,  he  saw  Blix  back  to  the 
flat,  and  bade  her  good-by  at  the  door. 

But  before  she  went  to  bed  that  night, 
Blix  sought  out  her  father,  who  was  still 
sitting  up  tinkering  with  the  cuckoo 
clock,  which  he  had  taken  all  to  pieces 
under  the  pretext  that  it  was  out  of  order 
and  went  too  fast. 

"Papum,"  said  Blix,  sitting  down  on 
the  rug  before  him,"  did  you  ever — when 
you  were  a  pioneer,  when  you  first  came 
out  here  in  the  fifties — did  you  ever  play 
poker? " 

"  I — oh,  well !  it  was  the  only  amuse- 
ment the  miners  had  for  a  long  time." 

"  I  want  you  to  teach  me." 

The  old  man  let  the  clock  fall  into  his 
lap  and  stared.  But  Blix  explained  her 


VI 

THE  next  day  was  Saturday,  and  Blix 
had  planned  a  walk  out  to  the  Presidio. 
But  at  breakfast,  while  she  was  debating 
whether  she  should  take  with  her  How- 
ard and  Snooky,  or  *  Many  Inventions," 
she  received  a  note  from  Condy,  sent  by 
special  messenger. 

"All  our  fun  is  spoiled,"  he  wrote. 
"  I've  got  ptomaine  poisoning  from  eating 
the  creamed  oysters  last  night,  and  am  in 
for  a  solid  fortnight  spent  in  bed.  Have 
passed  a  horrible  night.  Can't  you  look 
in  at  the  hotel  this  afternoon?  My 
mother  will  be  here  at  the  time." 

"  Ptomaine  poisoning !  *  The  name 
had  an  ugly  sound,  and  Condy's  use  of 
the  term  inferred  the  doctor's  visit.  Blix 
decided  that  she  would  put  off  her  walk 


Blix  125 

until  the  afternoon,  and  call  on  Mrs. 
Rivers  at  once,  and  ask  how  Condy  did. 

She  got  away  from  the  flat  about  ten 
o'clock,  but  on  the  steps  outside  met 
Condy  dressed  as  if  for  bicycling,  and 
smoking  a  cigarette. 

"I've  got  eleven  dollars!"  he  an- 
nounced cheerily. 

"  But  I  thought  it  was  ptomaine  poi- 
soning !  *  she  cried  with  a  sudden  vexa- 
tion. 

"Pshaw!  that's  what  the  doctor  says. 
He's  a  flapdoodle;  nothing  but  a  kind 
of  a  sort  of  a  pain.  It's  all  gone  now, 
I'm  as  fit  as  a  fiddle, — and  I've  got  eleven 
dollars.  Let's  go  somewhere  and  do 
something." 

"But  your  work?" 

"They  don't  expect  me.  When  I 
thought  I  was  going  to  be  sick,  I  tele- 
phoned the  office,  and  they  said  all  right, 
that  they  didn't  need  me.  Now  I've  got 
eleven  dollars,  and  there  are  three  holi- 
days of  perfect  weather  before  us :  to-day, 


126  Blix 

to-morrow,  and  Monday.  What  will  we 
do?  What  must  we  do  to  bo  saved 'f 
Our  matrimonial  objects  don't  material- 
ize till  Monday  night.  In  the  mean 
while,  what?  Shall  we  go  down  to 
Chinatown — to  the  restaurant,  or  to  the 
water-front  again?  Maybe  the  mate  on 
the  whaleback  would  invite  us  to  lunch. 
Or,"  added  Condy,  his  eye  caught  by  a 
fresh-fish  peddler  who  had  just  turned 
into  the  street,  "we  can  go  fishing." 

Tor  oysters,  perhaps." 

But  the  idea  had  caught  Condy's 
fancy. 

"Blix!"  he  exclaimed,  "let's  go  fish- 
ing." 

"Where?* 

"  I  don't  know.  Where  do  people  fish 
around  here?  Where  there's  water,  I 
presume." 

"No,  is  it  possible?"  she  asked  with 
deep  concern.  u  I  thought  they  fished  in 
their  back  yards,  or  in  their  front  parlors 
perhaps  " 


Blix  1 27 

•  Oh,  you  be  quiet!  you're  all  the  time 
guying  me,"  he  answered.  "Let  me 
think  —  let  me  think,*  he  went  on, 
frowning  heavily,  scouring  at  his  hair. 
Suddenly  he  slapped  a  thigh, 

"Come  on,"  he  cried,  "I've  an  idea!" 
He  was  already  half-way  down  the  steps, 
when  Blix  called  him  back. 

"Leave  it  all  to  me,"  he  assured  her; 
"trust  me  implicitly.  Don't  you  want 
to  go?  *  he  demanded  with  abrupt  disap- 
pointment. 

"Want  to!"  she  exclaimed.  "Why  it 
would  be  the  very  best  kind  of  fun, 
but " 

"  Well,  then,  come  along.* 

They  took  a  downtown  car. 

"I've  got  a  couple  of  split  bamboo 
rods,"  he  explained  as  the  car  slid  down 
the  terrific  grade  of  the  Washington- 
Street  hilL  "I  haven't  used  'em  in 
years — not  since  we  lived  East;  but 
they're  hand-made,  and  are  tip-top.  I 
haven't  any  other  kind  of  tackle;  but  it's 


Blix 


just  as  well,  because  the  tackle  will  all 
depend  upon  where  we  are  going  to  fish.* 

"Where's  that?" 

"Don't  know  yet;  am  going  down  now 
to  find  out." 

He  took  her  down  to  the  principal 
dealer  in  sporting  goods  on  Market 
Street.  It  was  a  delicious  world,  whose 
atmosphere  and  charm  were  not  to  be 
resisted.  There  were  shot-guns  in  rows, 
their  gray  barrels  looking  like  so  many 
organ-pipes  ;  sheaves  of  fishing-rods,  from 
the  four-ounce  wisp  of  the  brook-trout 
up  to  the  rigid  eighteen-ounce  lance  of 
the  king-salmon  and  sea-bass;  show- 
cases of  wicked  revolvers,  swelling  by 
calibres  into  the  thirty-eight  and  forty- 
four  man-killers  of  the  plainsmen  and 
Arizona  cavalry;  hunting  knives  and 
dirks,  and  the  slender  steel  whips  of  the 
fencers;  files  of  Winchesters,  sleeping 
quietly  in  their  racks,  waiting  patiently 
for  the  signal  to  speak  the  one  grim  word 
they  knew;  swarms  of  artificial  flies  of 


Blix  129 

every  conceivable  shade,  brown,  gray, 
black,  gray-brown,  gray-black,  with  here 
and  there  a  brisk  vermilion  note;  coils 
of  line,  from  the  thickness  of  a  pencil, 
spun  to  hold  the  sullen  plunges  of  a  jew- 
fish  off  the  Catalina  Islands,  down  to  the 
sea-green  gossamers  that  a  vigorous  fin- 
gerling  might  snap;  hooks,  snells,  guts, 
leaders,  gaffs,  cartridges,  shells,  and  all 
the  entrancing  munitions  of  the  sports- 
man, that  savored  of  lonely  canons,  deer- 
licks,  mountain  streams,  quail  uplands, 
and  the  still  reaches  of  inlet  and  marsh 
grounds,  gray  and  cool  in  the  early  au- 
tumn dawn. 

Condy  and  Blix  got  the  attention  of  a 
clerk,  and  Condy  explained. 

"  I  want  to  go  fishing — we  want  to  go 
fishing.  We  want  some  place  where  we 
can  go  and  come  in  the  same  day,  and 
we  want  to  catch  fair-sized  fish — no 
minnows." 

The  following  half-hour  was  charm- 
ing. Never  was  there  a  clerk  more  ds- 


1 30  Blix 

lightful.  It  would  appear  that  his  on& 
object  in  life  was  tliat  Condy  and  Blix 
should  catch  fish.  The  affairs  of  the 
nation  stood  still  while  he  pondered,  sug- 
gested, advised,  and  deliberated.  He  told 
them  where  to  go.  how  to  get  there,  what 
train  to  take  coming  back,  and  who  to 
ask  for  when  they  arrived.  They  would 
have  to  wait  till  Monday  before  going, 
but  could  return  long  before  the  fated 
hour  of  7  P.M. 

•Ask  for  Richardson,"  said  the  clerk; 
"and  here,  give  him  my  card.  He'll  put 
you  on  to  the  good  spots:  some  places  are 
A-l  to-day,  and  to-morrow  in  the  same 
place  you  can't  kill  a  single  fish." 

Condy  nudged  Blix  as  the  Mentor 
turned  away  to  get  his  card. 

"Notice  that,"  he  whispered:  "kill  a 
fish.  You  don't  say  '  catch/  you  say 
« kill ' — technical  detail." 

Then  they  bought  their  tackle :  a  couple 
of  cheap  reels,  lines,  leaders,  sinkers,  a 
book  of  assorted  flies  that  the  delightful 


Blix  131 

clerk  suggested,  and  a  beautiful  little  tin 
box  painted  green,  and  stencilled  with  a 
gorgeous  gold  trout  upon  the  lid,  in 
which  they  were  to  keep  the  pint  of 
salted  shrimps  to  be  used  as  bait  in  ad- 
dition to  the  flies.  Blix  would  get  these 
shrimps  at  a  little  market  near  her  home. 

"But,"  said  the  clerk,  "you  got  to  get 
a  permit  to  fish  in  that  lake.  Have  you 
got  a  pull  with  the  Water  Company? 
Are  you  a  stockholder?  * 

Condy's  face  fell,  and  Blix  gave  a  little 
gasp  of  dismay.  They  looked  at  each 
other.  Here  was  a  check,  indeed. 

*  Well,"  said  the  sublime  being  in  shirt 
sleeves  from  behind  the  counter,  "see 
what  you  can  do ;  and  if  you  can't  make 
it,  come  back  here  an*  lemmeno,  and 
we'll  fix  you  up  in  some  other  place. 
But  Lake  San  Andreas  has  been  bang- 
up  this  last  week, — been  some  great 
kills  there;  hope  to  the  deuce  you  can 
make  it." 

Everything  now  hinged  upon  this  per- 


1 32  Blix 

mit.  It  was  not  until  their  expedition 
had  been  in  doubt  that  Condy  and  Blix 
realized  how  alluring  had  been  its  pros- 


"Oh,  I  guess  you  can  get  a  permit," 
said  the  clerk  soothingly.  "An*  if  you 
make  any  good  kills,  lemmeno  and  I'll 
put  it  in  the  paper.  I'm  the  editor  of 
the  *  Sport-with-Gun-and-Rod  '  column 
in  The  Press*  he  added  with  a  flush  of 
pride. 

Toward  the  middle  of  the  afternoon, 
Blix,  who  was  waiting  at  home,  in  great 
suspense,  for  that  very  purpose,  received 
another  telegram  from  Condy : 

*  Tension  of  situation  relieved.  Un- 
conditional permission  obtained.  Don't 
forget  the  shrimps.* 

It  had  been  understood  that  Condy  was 
to  come  to  the  flat  on  Sunday  afternoon 
to  talk  over  final  arrangements  with  Blix. 
But  as  it  was,  Saturday  evening  saw  him 
again  at  the  Bessemers. 


Blix  133 

He  had  been  down  at  his  club  in  the 
library,  writing  the  last  paragraphs  of  his 
diver's  story,  when,  just  as  he  finished, 
Sargeant  discovered  him. 

"  Why,  Conny,  old  man,  all  alone  here? 
Let's  go  downstairs  and  have  a  cigar. 
Hendricks  and  George  Hands  are  coming 
around  in  half  an  hour.  They  told  me 
not  to  let  you  get  away." 

Condy  stirred  nervously  in  his  chair. 
He  knew  what  that  meant.  He  had 
enough  money  in  his  pockets  to  play 
that  night,  and  in  an  instant  the  enem}r 
was  all  awake.  The  rowel  was  in  his 
flank  again,  and  the  scourge  at  his  back. 
Sargeant  stood  there,  the  well-groomed 
clubman  of  thirty;  a  little  cynical  per- 
haps, but  a  really  good  fellow  for  all  that, 
and  undeniably  fond  of  Condy.  But 
somewhere  with  the  eyes  of  some  second 
self  Condy  saw  the  girl  of  nineteen,  part 
child  and  part  woman ;  saw  her  goodness, 
her  fine,  sweet  feminine  strength  as  it 
were  a  dim  radiance;  "What's  a  good 


134  Blue 

man  worth.  Condy,"  she  had  said,  "if 

he's  not  a  strong  man  ?  * 

"I  suppose  we'll  have  a  game  going 
before  midnight,"  admitted  Sargeant  re- 
signedly, smiling  good-humoredly  never- 
theless. 

Condy  set  hia  teeth.  "I'll  join  you 
later.  Wait  a  few  moments,"  he  said. 
He  hurried  to  the  office  of  the  club,  and 
sent  a  despatch  to  Blix — the  third  since 
morning: 

"Can  I  come  up  right  away?  It's 
urgent  Send  answer  by  this  messenger." 

He  got  his  answer  within  three-quar- 
ters of  an  hour,  and  left  the  club  as  Hen- 
dricks  and  George  Hands  arrived  by  the 
elevator  entrance. 

Sitting  in  the  bay  window  of  the  din- 
ing-room, he  told  Blix  why  he  had  come. 

"  Oh,  you  were  right ! "  she  told  him. 
"Always,  always  come,  when — when  you 
feel  you  must." 

*  It  gets  so  bad  sometimes.  Blix."  he 


Blix  135 

confessed  with  abject  self-contempt,  "  that 
when  I  can't  get  some  one  to  play  against. 
I'll  sit  down  and  deal  dummy  hands, 
and  bot  on  them.  Just  the  touch  of  the 
cards — just  the  fed  of  the  chips.  Faugh ; 
it's  shameful" 

The  day  following,  Sunday,  Condy  came 
to  tea  as  usual;  and  after  the  meal,  as 
soon  as  the  family  and  Victorine  had  left 
the  pair  alone  in  the  dining-room,  they 
set  about  preparing  for  their  morrow  s 
excursion.  Blix  put  up  their  lunch- 
sandwiches  of  what  Condy  called  "dev- 
ilish* ham,  hard-boiled  eggs,  stuffed 
olives,  and  a  bottle  of  claret. 

Condy  took  off  his  coat  and  made  a 
great  show  of  stringing  the  tacMe :  wind- 
ing the  lines  from  the  spools  on  to  the 
reels,  and  attaching  the  sinkers  and  flies 
to  the  leaders,  smoking  the  while,  and 
scowling  fiercely.  He  got  the  lines  fear- 
fully and  wonderfully  snarled,  he  caught 
the  hooks  in  the  table-cloth,  he  lost  the 
almost  invisible  gut  leaders  on  the  floor 


136  Bin 

and  looped  the  sinkers  on  the  lines  when 
they  should  have  gone  on  the  leaders 
In  the  end,  Blix  had  to  help  him  out, 
disentangling  the  lines  foot  by  foot  with 
a  patience  that  seemed  to  Condy  little 
short  of  superhuman. 

At  nine  o'clock  she  said  decisively: 

"Do  you  know  what  time  we  must  get 
up  in  the  morning  if  we  are  to  have 
breakfast  and  get  the  seven-forty  train? 
Quarter  of  six  by  the  latest,  and  you  must 
get  up  earlier  than  that,  because  you're 
at  the  hotel  and  have  further  to  go. 
Come  here  for  breakfast,  and — listen — be 
hfcre  by  half-past  six — are  you  listening, 
Condy?— and  we'll  go  down  to  the  depot 
from  here.  Don't  forget  to  bring  the 
rods." 

"I'll  wear  my  bicycle  suit,"  he  said, 
"and  one  of  those  golf  scarfs  that  wrap 
around  your  neck.' 

*No,'  she  declared,  "I  won't  have  it- 
Wear  the  oldest  clothes  you've  cot,  but 
look  fairly  respectable,  because  we  re  to 


Blix  1 37 

go  to  Luna's  when  we  get  back,  remem- 
ber. And  now  go  home;  you  need  all 
the  Bleep  you  can  get  if  you  are  to  get 
up  at  six  o'clock.* 

Instead  of  being  late,  as  Blix  had 
feared,  Condy  was  absurdly  ahead  of 
time  the  next  morning.  For  a  wonder, 
he  had  not  forgotten  the  rods ;  but  he  was 
one  tremor  of  nervousness.  He  would 
eat  no  breakfast. 

"  We're  going  to  miss  that  train,  *  he 
would  announce  from  time  to  time;  "I 
just  know  it.  Blix,  look  what  time  it 
is.  We  ought  to  be  on  the  way  to  the 
depot  now.  Come  on;  you  don't  want 
any  more  coffee.  Have  you  got  every- 
thing? Did  you  put  the  reels  in  the 
lunch-basket? — and  the  fly-book?  Lord, 
if  we  should  f  orgst  the  fly-book  1  * 

He  managed  to  get  her  to  the  depot 
over  half  an  hour  ahead  of  time.  The 
train  had  not  even  backed  in,  nor  the 
ticket  office  opened. 

"1  told  you,  Condy.  I  told  you,*  com- 


138  Bhx 

plained  Blix,  sinking  helplessly  upon  a 
bench  in  the  waiting-room. 

"No — no — no,"  he  answered  vaguely, 
looking  nervously  about,  his  head  in  the 
air.  "We're  none  too  soon — have  more 
time  to  rest  now.  I  wonder  what  track 
the  train  leaves  from.  I  wonder  if  it 
stops  at  San  Bruno.  I  wonder  how  far  it 
is  from  San  Bruno  to  Lake  San  Andreas. 
Fm  afraid  it's  going  to  rain,  Heavens 
and  earth  Blix,  we  forgot  the  shrimps !  * 

"No,  no!  Sit  down,  I've  got  the 
shrimps.  Condy,  you  make  me  so  ner- 
vous I  shall  scream  in  a  minute." 

Some  three-quarters  of  an  hour  later 
the  train  had  set  them  down  at  San 
Bruno — nothing  more  than  a  road-house, 
the  headquarters  for  duck-shooters  and 
fishermen  from  the  city.  However,  Blix 
and  Condy  were  the  only  visitors.  Every- 
body seemed  to  be  especially  nice  to  them 
on  that  wonderful  morning.  Even  the 
supercilious  ticket  -  seller  at  the  San 
Francisco  depot  had  unbent,  and  wished 


Blix  1 39 

them  good  luck.  The  conductor  of  the 
train  had  shown  himself  affable.  The 
very  brakeman  had  gone  out  of  his  way 
to  apprize  them,  quite  five  minutes  ahead 
of  time,  that  "the  next  stop  was  their 
place."  And  at  San  Bruno  the  proprietor 
of  the  road-house  himself  hitched  up  to 
drive  them  over  to  the  lake,  announcing 
that  he  would  call  for  them  at  "  Kichard- 
son's  "  in  time  for  the  evening  train. 

"  And  he  only  asked  me  four  bits  for 
both  trips,"  whispered  Condy  to  Blix,  as 
they  jogged  along. 

The  country  was  beautiful.  It  was 
hardly  eight  o'clock,  and  the  morning 
still  retained  much  of  the  brisk  efferves- 
cence of  the  early  dawn.  Great  bare, 
rolling  hills  of  gray-green,  thinly  scat- 
tered with  live  oak,  bore  back  from  the 
road  on  either  hand.  The  sky  was  pale 
blue.  There  was  a  smell  of  cows  in  the 
air,  and  twice  they  heard  an  unseen  lark 
singing.  It  was  very  still.  The  old 
and  complacent  horse  were  em* 


140  Blix 

calmed  in  a  pungent  aroma  of  old  leathei 
and  of  stables  that  was  entrancing;  and 
a  sweet  smell  of  grass  and  sap  came  to 
them  in  occasional  long  whiffs.  There 
was  exhilaration  in  the  very  thought  of 
being  alive  on  that  odorous,  still  morn- 
ing. The  young  blood  went  spanking  in 
the  veins.  Blix's  cheeks  were  ruddy, 
her  little  dark-brown  eyes  fairly  corus- 
cating with  pleasure. 

"Condy,  isn't  it  all  splendid  1*  she 
suddenly  burst  out. 

"I  feel  regularly  bigger,*  he  declared 
solemnly.  "  I  could  do  anything  a  morn- 
ing like  this." 

Then  they  came  to  the  lake,  and  to 
Eichardson's,  where  the  farmer  lived  who 
was  also  the  custodian  of  the  lake.  The 
complacent  horse  jogged  back,  and  Condy 
and  Blix  set  about  the  serious  business 
of  the  day.  Condy  had  no  need  to  show 
Richardson  the  delightful  sporting  clerk's 
card.  The  old  Yankee — his  twan^  and 
dry  humor  singularly  incongruous  on  that 


Blix  141 

royal  morning — was  solicitude  itself.  He 
picked  out  the  best  boat  on  the  beach  for 
them,  loaned  them  his  own  anchor  of 
railroad  iron,  indicated  minutely  the 
point  on  the  opposite  shore  off  which 
the  last  big  trout  had  been  "killed,"  and 
wetted  himself  to  his  ankles  as  he  pushed 
off  the  boat 

Condy  took  the  oars.  Blix  sat  in  the 
stern,  jointing  the  rods  and  running  the 
lines  through  the  guides.  She  even 
baited  the  hooks  with  the  salt  shrimp, 
herself ,  and  by  nine  o'clock  they  were  at 
anchor  some  forty  feet  off-shore,  and  fish- 
ing, according  to  Richardson's  advice,  "a 
leetle  mite  off  the  edge  o'  the  weeds." 

"If  we  don't  get  a  bite  the  whole 
blessed  day,"  said  Condy,  as  he  paid  out 
his  line  to  the  ratchet  music  of  the  reel, 
"we'll  have  fun,  just  the  same.  Look 
around, — isn't  this  great? " 

They  were  absolutely  alone.  The  day 
was  young  as  yet.  The  lake,  smooth  and 
still  as  gray  silk,  widened  to  the  west  and 


142  Blix 

south  without  so  much  as  a  wrinkle  to 
roughen  the  surface.  Only  to  the  east, 
where  the  sun  looked  over  a  shoulder  of 
a  higher  hill,  it  flamed  up  int~  a  blinding 
diamond  iridescence.  The  surrounding 
land  lay  between  sky  and  water,  hushed 
to  a  Sunday  stillness.  Far  off  across  the 
lake  by  Richardson's  they  heard  a  dog 
bark,  and  the  sound  came  fine  and  small 
and  delicate.  At  long  intervals  the  boat 
stirred  with  a  gentle  clap-clapping  of  the 
water  along  its  sides.  From  the  near-by 
shore  in  the  growth  of  manzanita  bushes 
quail  called  and  clucked  comfortably  to 
each  other;  a  bewildered  yellow  butterfly 
danced  by  over  their  heads,  and  slim  blue 
dragon-flies  came  and  poised  on  their 
lines  and  fishing-rods,  bowing  their 
backs. 

From  his  seat  in  the  bow,  Condy  cast 
a  glance  at  Blix.  She  was  holding  her 
rod  in  both  hands,  absorbed,  watchful, 
very  intent.  She  was  as  trim  as  ever, 
wen  in  the  old  clothes  she  had  worn  £01 


Blix  143 

the  occasion.  Her  round,  strong  neck 
was  as  usual  swathed  high  and  tight 
in  white,  and  the  huge  dog-collar  girdled 
her  waist  according  to  her  custom.  She 
had  taken  off  her  hat.  Her  yellow  hair 
rolled  back  from  her  round  forehead  and 
cool  pink  cheeks  like  a  veritable  nimbus, 
and  for  the  fiftieth  time  Condy  remarked 
the  charming  contrast  of  her  small,  deep- 
brown  eyes  in  the  midst  of  this  white 
satin,  yellow  hair,  white  skin,  and  exquis- 
ite pink  cheeks, 

An  hour  passed.     Then  two. 

"No  fish,"  murmured  Condy,  drawing 
in  his  line  to  examine  the  bait.  But,  as 
he  was  fumbling  with  the  flies  he  was 
startled  by  a  sharp  exclamation  from 
Blix. 

"  Oh-Condy-I've-got-a-bite ! " 

He  looked  up  just  in  time  to  see  the 
tip  of  her  rod  twitch,  twitch,  twitch. 
Then  the  whole  rod  arched  suddenly,  the 
reel  sang,  the  line  tautened  and  cut  diag- 
onally through  the  water. 


144 

"  You  got  him  I  you  got  him !  *  he 
shouted,  palpitating  with  excitement. 
"  And  he's  a  good  one !  * 

Blix  rose,  reeling  in  as  rapidly  as  was 
possible,  the  butt  of  the  twitching,  living 
rod  braced  against  her  belt.  All  at  once 
the  rod  straightened  out  again,  the  strain 
was  released,  and  the  line  began  to  slant 
rapidly  away  from  the  boat. 

"He's  off!*  she  cried. 

"Off,  nothing!  He's  going  to  jump. 
Look  out  for  him,  now  1  * 

And  then  the  two  watching  from  the 
boat,  tense  and  quivering  with  the  drama 
of  the  moment,  saw  that  most  inspiriting 
of  sights — the  "break  "  of  a  salmon-trout. 
Up  he  went,  from  a  brusque  explosion  of 
ripples  and  foam — up  into  the  gray  of  the 
morning  from  out  the  gray  of  the  water: 
scales  all  gleaming,  hackles  all  a-bristle ; 
a  sudden  flash  of  silver,  a  sweep  as  of  a 
scimitar  in  gray  smoke,  with  a  splash,  a 
turmoil,  an  abrupt  burst  of  troubled  sound 
that  stabbed  through  the  silence  of  the 


Blix  145 

morning,  and  in  a  single  instant  dissi- 
pated all  the  placid  calm  of  the  previous 
hours. 

"Keep  the  line  taut,"  whispered  Condy, 
gritting  his  teeth.  "When  he  comes 
toward  you,  reel  him  in ;  an'  if  he  pulls 
too  hard,  give  him  his  head." 

Blix  was  breathing  fast,  her  cheeks 
blazing,  her  eyes  all  alight. 

"Oh,"  she  gasped,  "I'm  so  afraid  I'll 
lose  him!  Oh,  look  at  that! *  she  cried, 
as  the  trout  darted  straight  for  the  bot- 
tom, bending  the  rod  till  the  tip  was  sub- 
merged. "  Condy,  I'll  lose  him — I  know 
I  shall ;  you,  you  take  the  rod ! " 
*  "  Not  for  a  thousand  dollars !  Steady, 
there;  he's  away  again!  Oh,  talk  about 
sport !  " 

Yard  by 'yard  Blix  reeled  in  until  they 
began  to  see  the  silver  glint  of  the  trout's 
flanks  through  the  green  water.  She 
brought  him  nearer.  Swimming  parallel 
with  the  boat,  he  was  plainly  visible 
from  his  wide-open  mouth — the  hook 


146  Blix 

and  fly  protruding  from  his  lower  jaw — 
to  the  red,  quivering  flanges  of  the  tail. 
His  sides  were  faintly  speckled,  his  belly 
white  as  chalk.  He  was  almost  as  long 
as  Condy's  forearm. 

"Oh,  he's  a  beauty!  Oh,  isn't  he  a 
beauty !  *  murmured  Condy.  "  Now,  care- 
full,  careful;  bring  him  up  to  the  boat 
where  I  can  reach  him ;  e-easy,  Blix.  If 
he  bolts  again,  let  him  run." 

Twice  the  trout  shied  from  the  boat's 
shadow,  and  twice,  as  Blix  gave  him  his 
head,  the  reel  sang  and  hummed  like  a 
watchman's  rattle.  But  the  third  time 
he  came  to  the  surface  and  turned  slowly 
on  his  side,  the  white  belly  and  one  red 
fin  out  of  the  water,  the  gills  opening  and 
shutting.  He  was  tired  out.  A  third 
time  Blix  drew  him  gently  to  the  boat's 
side.  Condy  reached  out  and  down  into 
the  water  till  his  very  shoulder  was  wet, 
hooked  two  fingers  under  the  distended 
gills,  and  with  a  long,  easy  movement  of 
the  arm  swung  him  into  the  boat. 


Blix  147 

Their  exultation  was  that  of  veritable 
children.  Condy  whooped  like  an 
Apache,  throwing  his  hat  into  the  air; 
Blix  was  hardly  articulate,  her  hands 
clasped,  her  hair  in  disarray,  her  eyes 
swimming  with  tears  of  sheer  excite- 
ment. They  shook  each  other's  hands; 
they  talked  wildly  at  the  same  time; 
they  pounded  on  the  boat's  thwarts  with 
their  fists ;  they  laughed  at  their  own  ab- 
surdity ;  they  looked  at  the  trout  again 
and  again,  guessed  at  his  weight,  and  re- 
called to  each  other  details  of  the  struggle. 

"When  he  broke  that  time,  wasn't  it 
grand  ? " 

"And  when  I  first  felt  him  bite!  It 
was  so  sudden — why,  it  actually  fright- 
ened me.  I  never — no,  never  in  my  life !  * 
exclaimed  Blix,  "was  so  happy  as  I  am 
at  this  moment.  Oh,  Condy,  to  think — 
just  to  think  !  " 

"  Isn't  it  glory  hallelujah  ?  " 

"  Isn't  it  better  than  teas,  and  dancing, 
and  functions?" 


148 

* Blix — how  old  are  we? " 

"  I  don't  care  how  old  we  are ;  I  think 
that  trout  will  weigh  two  pounds." 

When  they  were  calm  again,  they  re- 
turned to  their  fishing.  The  morning 
passed,  and  it  was  noon  before  they  were 
aware  of  it.  By  half -past  twelve  Blix 
had  caught  three  trout,  though  the  first 
was  by  far  the  heaviest.  Condy  had  not 
had  so  much  as  a  bite.  At  one  o'clock 
they  rowed  ashore  and  had  lunch  under 
a  huge  live  oak  in  a  little  amphitheatre 
of  manzanita. 

Never  had  a  lunch  tasted  so  delicious. 
What  if  the  wine  was  warm  and  the 
stuffed  olives  oily?  What  if  the  pepper 
for  the  hard-boiled  eggs  had  sifted  all 
over  the  "devilish"  ham  sandwiches? 
What  if  the  eggs  themselves  had  not  been 
sufficiently  cooked,  and  the  corkscrew  for- 
gotten? They  could  not  be  anything  else 
but  inordinately  happy,  sublimely  gay. 
Nothing  short  of  actual  tragedy  could 
have  marred  the  joy  of  that  day. 


Blix  1 49 

But  after  they  were  done  eating,  and 
Blix  had  put  away  the  forks  and  spoons, 
and  while  Condy  was  stretched  upon  his 
back  smoking  a  cigar,  she  said  to  him :  - 

"Now,  Condy,  what  do  you  say  to  a 
little  game  of  cards  with  me  ?  * 

The  cigar  dropped  from  Condy 's  lips, 
and  he  sat  suddenly  upright,  brushing 
the  fallen  leaves  from  his  hair.  Blix 
had  taken  a  deck  of  cards  from  the  lunch- 
basket,  and  four  rolls  of  chips  wrapped 
in  tissue  paper.  He  stared  at  her  in 
speechless  amazement. 

"  What  do  you  say  ?  *  she  repeated, 
looking  at  him  and  smiling. 

"  Why,  Blix ! "  he  exclaimed  in  amaze- 
ment, "  what  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  Just  what  I  say.  I  want  you  to  play 
cards  with  me." 

"I'll  not  do  it,"  he  declared,  almost 
coldly. 

"  Listen  to  me,  Condy,"  answered  Blix ; 
and  for  quite  five  minutes,  while  he  in- 
terrupted and  protested  and  pshawed  and 


150  Blix 

argued,  she  talked  to  him  calmly  and 
quietly. 

"I  don't  ask  you  to  stop  playing, 
Condy, "  she  said,  as  she  finished;  "I  just 
ask  you  that  when  you  feel  you  must 
play — or — I  mean,  when  you  want  to 
very  bad,  you  will  come  and  play  with 
me,  instead  of  playing  at  your  club." 

"But  it's  absurd,  it's  preposterous.  I 
hate  to  see  a  girl  gambling, — and  you  of 
all  girls!" 

*  It's  no  worse  for  me  than  it  is  for  you 
and — well,  do  you  suppose  I  would  play 
with  any  one  else?  Maybe  you  think  I 
can't  play  well  enough  to  make  it  inter- 
esting for  you,"  she  said  gaily.  "Is  that 
it?  I  can  soon  show  you,  Condy  Eivers 
— never  mind  when  I  learned  how." 

"  But,  Blix,  you  don't  know  how  often 
we  play,  those  men  and  I.  Why,  it  is 
almost  every — you  don't  know  how  often 
we  play." 

"Condy,  whenever  you  want  to  play, 
and  will  play  with  me,  no  matter  what ' 


Blix  151 

I've  got  in  hand,  I'll  stop  everything 
and  play  with  you." 

"But  why?" 

"  Because  I  think,  Condy,  that  this  way 
perhaps  you  won't  play  quite  so  often  at 
first;  and  then  little  by  little  perhaps — 
perhaps — well,  never  mind  that  now.  / 
want  to  play;  put  it  that  way.  But  I 
want  you  to  promise  me  never  to  play 
with  any  one  else — say  forsix  months." 

And  in  the  end,  whipped  by  a  sense 
of  shame,  Condy  made  her  the  promise. 
They  became  very  gay  upon  the  instant. 

"Hoh!"  exclaimed  Condy;  "what  do 
you  know  of  poker?  I  think  we  had 
best  play  old  sledge  or  cassino." 

Blix  had  dealt  a  hand  and  partitioned 
the  chips. 

"  Straights  and  flushes  before  the  draw," 
she  announced  calmly. 

Condy  started  and  stared.  Then  look- 
ing at  her  askance,  picked  up  his  hand. 

"It's  up  to  you." 

"  I'll  make  it  five  to  play. " 


152  Blix 

"  Five  ?    Very  well.    How  many  cards  ?  * 

"Three." 

"I'll  take  two." 

"Bet  you  five  more." 

Blix  looked  at  her  hand.  Then,  with- 
out trace  of  expression  in  her  voice  or 
face,  said : 

"  There's  your  five,  and  I'll  raise  you 
five." 

"Five  better." 

"And  five  better  than  that." 

"Call  you." 

"Full  house.  Aces  on  tens,"  said 
Blix,  throwing  down  her  cards. 

"Heavens!  they're  good  as  gold,"  mut- 
tered Condy  as  Blix  gathered  in  the 
chips. 

An  hour  later  she  had  won  all  the 
chips  but  five. 

"Now  we'll  stop  and  get  to  fishing 
again ;  don't  you  want  to  ? " 

He  agreed,  and  she  counted  the  chips. 

"  Condy,  you  owe  me  seven  dollars  and 
a  half,"  she  announced. 


Blix  153 

Condy  began  to  smile.  "  Well,"  he  said 
jocosely,  "I'll  send  you  around  a  check 
to-morrow." 

But  at  this  Blix  was  cross  upon  the  in- 
stant. "  You  wouldn't  do  that — wouldn't 
talk  that  way  with  one  of  your  friends  at 
the  club !  "  she  exclaimed ;  "  and  it's  not- 
right  to  do  it  with  me.  Condy,  give  me 
seven  dollars  and  a  half.  When  you  play 
cards  with  me  it's  ju.at  as  though  it  were 
with  another  man.  I  would  have  paid 
you  if  you  had  won." 

"But  I  haven't  got  more  than  nine 
dollars.  Who'll  pay  for  the  supper  to- 
night at  Luna's,  and  our  railroad  fare 
going  home?" 

"I'll  pay." 

"  But  I — I  can't  afford  to  lose  money 
this  way." 

"  Shouldn't  have  played,  then ;  I  took 
the  same  chances  as  you.  Condy,  I  want 
my  money." 

"  You  —  you  —  why  you've  regularly 
flimflammed  me." 


154 

"  Will  you  give  me  my  money  ?  * 
"  Oh,  take  your  money  then !  " 
Blix  shut  the  money  in  her  purse,  and 
rose,  dusting  her  dress. 

"Now,"  she  said, — "now  that  the  pas- 
time of  card-playing  is  over,  we  will  re- 
turn to  the  serious  business  of  life,  which 
is  the  catching — no,  '  killing '  of  lake 
trout." 

At  five  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  Condy 
pulled  up  the  anchor  of  railroad  iron  and 
rowed  back  to  Eichardson's.  Blix  had 
six  trout  to  her  credit,  but  Condy's  ill- 
luck  had  been  actually  ludicrous. 

"  I  can  hold  a  string  in  the  water  as 
long  as  anybody,"  he  complained,  "but 
I'd  like  to  have  the  satisfaction  of  merely 
changing  the  bait  occasionally.  I've  not 
had  a  single  bite — not  a  nibble,  y'  know, 
all  day.  Never  mind,  you  got  the  big 
trout,  Blix ;  that  first  one.  That  five  min- 
utes was  worth  the  whole  day.  It's  been 
glorious,  the  whole  thing.  We'll  come 
down  here  once  a  week  right  along  now." 


Blix  155 

But  the  one  incident  that  completed 
the  happiness  of  that  wonderful  day  oc- 
curred just  as  they  were  getting  out  of 
the  boat  on  the  shore  by  Eichardson's. 
In  a  mud-hole  between  two  rocks  they 
discovered  a  tiny  striped  snake,  hardly 
bigger  than  a  lead-pencil,  in  the  act  of 
swallowing  a  little  green  frog,  and  they 
passed  a  rapt  ten  minutes  in  witnessing 
the  progress  of  this  miniature  drama, 
which  culminated  happily  in  the  victim's 
escape,  and  triumph  of  virtue. 

"That,"  declared  Blix  as  they  climbed 
into  the  old  buggy  which  was  to  take 
them  to  the  train,  "  was  the  one  thing 
necessary.  That  made  the  day  perfect." 

They  reached  the  city  at  dusk,  and 
sent  their  fish,  lunch-basket,  and  rods  up 
to  the  Bessemers'  flat  by  a  messenger  boy 
with  an  explanatory  note  for  Blix's 
father. 

"Now,"  said  Condy,  "for  Luna's  and 
the  matrimonial  objects." 


VII 

LUNA'S  Mexican  restaurant  has  no 
address.  It  is  on  no  particular  street, 
at  no  particular  corner;  even  its  habitue's, 
its  most  enthusiatic  devotees,  are  unable 
to  locate  it  upon  demand.  It  is  "  over 
there  in  the  quarter,"  "not  far  from  the 
cathedral  there."  One  could  find  it  if 
one  started  out  with  that  intent;  but  to 
direct  another  there — no,  that  is  out  of 
the  question.  It  can  be  reached  by  fol- 
lowing the  alleys  of  Chinatown.  You 
will  come  out  of  the  last  alley — the  one 
where  the  slave  girls  are — upon  the  edge  of 
the  Mexican  quarter,  and  by  going  straight 
forward  a  block  or  twc*,  and  by  keeping  a 
sharp  lookout  to  right  and  left  you  will 
hit  upon  it.  It  is  always  to  be  searched 
for.  Always  to  be  discovered. 

On   that   particular   Monday    evening 


Blix  1 57 

Blix  and  Condy  arrived  at  Luna's  some 
fifteen  minutes  before  seven.  Condy  had 
lost  himself  and  all  sense  of  direction  in 
the  strange  streets  of  the  quarter,  and 
they  were  on  the  very  brink  of  despair 
when  Blix  discovered  the  sign  upon  an 
opposite  corner. 

As  Condy  had  foretold,  they  had  the 
place  to  themselves.  They  went  into  the 
back  room  with  its  one  mirror,  six  tables, 
and  astonishing  curtains  of  Nottingham 
lace;  and  the  waiter,  whose  name  was 
Richard  or  Eiccardo,  according  to  taste, 
began  to  officiate  at  the  solemn  rites  of 
the  "supper  Mexican."  Condy  and  Blix 
ate  with  their  eyes  continually  wander- 
ing to  the  door;  and  as  fhefrijoles  were 
being  served,  started  simultaneously  and 
exchanged  glances. 

A  man  wearing  two  marguerites  in  the 
lapel  of  his  coat  had  entered  abruptly, 
and  sat  down  to  a  table  close  at  hand. 

Condy  drew  a  breath  of  suppressed 
excitement. 


*  58  Blix 

"  There  he  is,"  he  whispered, — "  Captain 
Jack!" 

They  looked  at  the  newcomer  with 
furtive  anxiety,  and  told  themselves  that 
they  were  disappointed.  For  a  retired 
sea  captain  he  was  desperately  common- 
place. His  hair  was  red,  he  was  younger 
than  they  had  expected,  and,  worst  of  all, 
he  did  look  tough. 

"Oh,  poor  K.  D.  B.l"  sighed  Blix, 
shaking  her  head.  "  He'll  never  do,  I'm 
afraid.  Perhaps  he  has  a  good  heart, 
though ;  red-headed  people  are  sometimes 
affectionate." 

" They  are  impulsive, "  hazarded 
Condy. 

As  he  spoke  the  words,  a  second  man 
entered  the  little  room.  He,  too,  sat 
down  at  a  near-by  table.  He,  too,  or- 
dered the  "supper  Mexican."  He,  too, 
wore  marguerites  in  his  buttonhole. 

"Death  and  destruction!"  gasped 
Condy,  turning  pale. 

Blix  collapsed  helplessly  in  her  chair, 


Blix  159 

her  hands  dropping  in  her  lap.  They 
stared  at  each  other  in  utter  confusion. 

"Here's  a  how-do-you-do,"  murmured 
Condy,  pretending  to  strip  a  tamale  that 
Richard  had  just  set  before  him.  But 
Blix  had  pushed  hers  aside. 

"  What  does  it  mean  ? "  whispered 
Condy  across  the  table.  "In  Heaven's 
name,  what  does  it  mean?  " 

"It  can  only  mean  one  thing,"  Blix 
declared;  "one  of  them  is  the  captain, 
and  one  is  a  coincidence.  Anybody 
might  wear  a  marguerite;  we  ought  to 
have  thought  of  that." 

"  But  which  is  which  ? " 

"  If  K.  D.  B.  should  come  now '  * 

"  But  the  last  man  looks  more  like  the 
captain. " 

The  last  man  was  a  sturdy,  broad- 
shouldered  fellow,  who  might  have  been 
forty.  His  heavy  moustache  was  just 
touched  with  gray,  and  he  did  have  a 
certain  vaguely  "  sober  and  industrious  " 
appearance.  But  the  difference  between 


160  Blix 

the  two  men  was  slight,  after  all ;  the  red- 
headed man  could  easily  have  been  a  sea 
captain,  and  he  certainly  was  over  thirty- 
five. 

"  Which  ?  which  ?  which  ? — how  can  we 
tell?  We  might  think  of  some  way  to 
get  rid  of  the  coincidence,  if  we  could 
only  tell  which  the  coincidence  was.  We 
owe  it  to  K.  D.  B.  In  a  way,  Condy,  it's 
our  duty.  We  brought  her  here,  or  we 
are  going  to,  and  we  ought  to  help  her  all 
we  can ;  and  she  may  be  here  at  any  mo- 
ment. What  time  is  it  now  ?  * 

"  Five  minutes  after  seven.  But,  Blix, 
I  should  think  the  right  one — the  cap- 
tain— would  be  all  put  out  himself  by 
seeing  another  chap  here  wearing  mar- 
guerites. Does  either  one  of  'em  seem 
put  out  to  you?  Look.  I  should  think 
the  captain,  whichever  one  he  is,  would 
kind  of  glare  at  the  coincidence." 

Stealthily  they  studied  the  two  men 
for  a  moment. 

"No,  no,"  murmured  Blix,  "you  can't 


Blix  161 

tell.  Neither  of  them  seems  to  glare 
much.  Oh,  Condy, " — her  voice  dropped 
to  a  faint  whisper.  "The  red-headed 
one  has  put  his  hat  on  a  chair,  just  be- 
hind him,  notice?  Do  you  suppose  if 
you  stood  up  you  could  see  inside  ?  " 

"What  good  would  that  do? " 

"  He  might  have  his  initials  inside  the 
crown,  or  his  whole  name  even;  and  you 
could  see  if  he  had  a  '  captain '  hef  ore  it. " 

Condy  made  a  pretence  of  rising  to  get 
a  match  in  a  ribbed,  truncated  cone  of 
china  that  stood  upon  an  adjacent  table, 
and  Blix  held  her  breath  as  he  glanced 
down  into  the  depths  of  the  hat.  He  re- 
sumed his  seat. 

"Only  initials,"  he  breathed, — "W.  J. 
A.  It  might  be  Jack,  that  J.,  and  it 
might  be  Joe,  or  Jeremiah,  or  Joshua ;  and 
even  if  he  was  a  captain  he  might  not  use 
the  title.  We're  no  better  off  than  we 
were  before." 

"And  K.  D.  B.  may  come  at  any  mo- 
ment. Maybe  she  has  come  already  and 


162  BHx 

looked  through  the  windows,  and  saw 
two  men  with  marguerites  and  went 
away.  She'd  be  just  that  timid.  What 
can  we  do?" 

"  Wait  a  minute,  look  here,"  murmured 
Condy.  "I've  an  idea.  Til  find  out 
which  the  captain  is.  You  see  that  pic- 
ture, that  chromo,  on  the  wall  opposite? " 

Blix  looked  as  he  indicated.  The  pic- 
ture was  a  gorgeously  colored  lithograph 
of  a  pilot-boat,  schooner-rigged,  all  sails 
set,  dashing  bravely  through  seas  of 
emerald  green  color. 

"  You  mean  that  schooner  ?"  asked  Blix. 

"That  schooner,  exactly.  Now  listen. 
You  ask  me  in  a  loud  voice  what  kind  of 
a  boat  that  is ;  and  when  I  answer,  you 
keep  your  eye  on  the  two  men." 

"  Why,  what  are  you  going  to  do  ?  " 

"You'll  see.  Try  it  now;  we've  no 
time  to  lose." 

Blix  shifted  in  her  seat  and  cleared 
her  throat.  Then : 

"  What  a  pretty  boat  that  is  up  there, 


Blix  163 

that  picture  on  the  wall.  See  over  there, 
on  the  wall  opposite?  Do  you  notice  it? 
Isn't  she  pretty?  Condy,  tell  me  what 
kind  of  a  boat  is  that?" 

Condy  turned  about  in  his  place  with 
great  deliberation,  fixed  the  picture  with 
a  judicial  eye,  and  announced  decisively : 

"That? — why  that's  a  barkentine." 

Condy  had  no  need  to  wait  for  Blix's 
report.  The  demonstration  came  far  too 
quickly  for  that.  The  red-headed  man 
at  his  loud  declaration  merely  glanced  in 
the  direction  of  the  chromo  and  returned 
to  his  enchellados.  But  he  of  the  black 
moustache  followed  Condy's  glance,  not- 
ed the  picture  of  which  he  spoke,  and 
snorted  contemptuously.  They  even 
heard  him  mutter  beneath  his  moustache : 

"  Barkentine  your  eye ! " 

"  No  doubt  as  to  which  is  the  captain 
now,"  whispered  Condy  so  soon  as  the 
other  had  removed  from  him  a  glance  of 
withering  scorn. 

They  could  hardly  restrain  their  gaiety ; 


164  Blix 

but  their  gravity  promptly  returned  when 
Blix  kicked  Condy's  foot  under  the  table 
and  murmured:  "He's  looking  at  his 
watch,  the  captain  is.  K.  D.  B.  isn't 
here  yet,  and  the  red-headed  man,  the 
coincidence,  is.  We  must  get  rid  of  him. 
Condy,  can't  you  think  of  something?  " 

"Well,  he  won't  go  till  he's  through 
his  supper,  you  can  depend  upon  that. 
If  he's  here  when  K.  D.  B.  arrives,  it 
will  spoil  everything.  She  wouldn't  stay 
a  moment.  She  wouldn't  even  come  in." 

"  Isn't  it  disappointing  ?  And  I  had  so 
counted  upon  bringing  these  two  together ! 
And  Captain  Jack  is  a  nice  man ! " 

"  You  can  see  that  with  one  hand  tied 
behind  you,"  whispered  Condy.  "The 
other  chap's  tough." 

"Looks  just  like  the  kind  of  man  to 
get  into  jail  sooner  or  later. " 

"  Maybe  he's  into  some  mischief  now ; 
you  never  can  tell.  And  the  Mexican 
quarter  of  San  Francisco  is  just  the  place 
for  '  affairs.'  I'll  warrant  he's  got  pals' 


Blix  165 

"Well,  here  he  is — that's  the  main 
point — just  keeping  those  people  apart 
spoiling  a  whole  romance.  Maybe  ruin- 
ing their  lives.  It's  quite  possible; 
really  it  is.  Just  stop  and  think.  This 
is  a  positive  crisis  we're  looking  at 
now." 

"  Can't  we  get  rid  of  him  somehow  ?  * 

"  0-oh ! "  whispered  Blix,  all  at  once, 
in  a  quiver  of  excitement.  "  There  is  a 
way,  if  we'd  ever  have  the  courage  to  do 
it.  It  might  work;  and  if  it  didn't, 
he'd  never  know  the  difference,  never 
would  suspect  us.  Oh !  but  we  wouldn't 
dare." 

"What?  what?  In  Heaven's  name 
what  is  it,  Blix?" 

"We  wouldn't  dare — we  couldn't. 
Oh !  but  it  would  be  such " 

"  K.  D.  B.  may  come  in  that  door  at 
any  second." 

"I'm  half  afraid,  but  all  the  same 

Condy,  let  me  have  a  pencil."  She 
dashed  off  a  couple  of  lines  on  the  back 


1 66  Blix 

of  the  bill  of  fare,  and  her  hand  trembled 
like  a  leaf  as  she  handed  him  what  she 
had  written. 

"  Send  him — the  red-readed  man — that 
telegram.  There's  an  office  just  two 
doors  below  here,  next  the  drug-store.  I 
saw  it  as  we  came  by.  You  know  his 
initials ;  remember,  you  saw  them  in  his 
hat.  W.  J.  A.,  Lima's  restaurant. 
That's  all  you  want." 

"Lord,"  muttered  Condy,  as  he  gazed 
upon  what  Blix  had  written. 

"Do  you  dare?"  she  whispered,  with  a 
little  hysterical  shudder. 

"If  it  failed  we've  nothing  to  lose." 

"And  K.  D.  is  coming  nearer  every 
instant ! " 

"But  would  he  go — that  is,  at  once?  " 

"We  can  only  try.  You  won't  be 
gone  a  hundred  seconds.  You  can  leave 
me  here  that  length  of  time.  Quick, 
Condy;  decide  one  way  or  the  other. 
It's  getting  desperate." 

Condy  reached  for  his  hat. 


Blix  167 

''Give  me  some  money,  then,"  he  said. 
"You  won  all  of  mine." 

A  few  moments  later  he  was  back 
again;  and  the  two  sat,  pretending  to  eat 
their  chili  peppers,  their  hearts  in  their 
throats,  hardly  daring  to  raise  their  eyes 
from  their  plates.  Condy  was  actually 
sick  with  excitement,  and  all  but  tipped 
the  seltzer  bottle  to  the  floor  when  a 
messenger  boy  appeared  in  the  outer 
room.  The  boy  and  the  proprietor  held 
a  conference  over  the  counter.  Then 
Eichard  appeared  between  the  portieres 
of  Nottingham  lace,  the  telegram  in  his 
hand  and  the  boy  at  his  heels. 

Evidently  Richard  knew  the  red-headed 
man,  for  he  crossed  over  to  him  at  once 
with  the  words : 

"  I  guess  this  is  for  you,  Mr.  Atkins  ?  " 

He  handed  him  the  despatch  and  re- 
tired. The  red-headed  man  signed  the 
receipt;  the  boy  departed.  Blix  and 
Condy  heard  the  sound  of  torn  papsr  as 
the  red-headed  man  opened  the  telegram 


1 68  Blix 

Ten  seconds  passed,  then  fifteen,  then 
twenty.  There  was  a  silence.  Condy 
dared  to  steal  a  glance  at  the  red-headed 
man's  reflection  in  the  mirror.  He  was 
studying  the  despatch,  frowning  horribly. 
He  put  it  away  in  his  pocket,  took  it  out 
again  with  a  fierce  movement  of  impa- 
tience, and  consulted  it  a  second  time. 
His  "  supper  Mexican  "  remained  untasted 
before  him ;  Condy  and  Blix  heard  him 
breathing  loud  through  his  nose.  That 
he  was  profoundly  agitated,  they  could 
not  doubt  for  a  single  moment.  All  at 
once  a  little  panic  terror  seemed  to  take 
possession  of  him.  He  rose,  seized  his 
hat,  jammed  it  over  his  ears,  slapped  a 
half-dollar  upon  the  table,  and  strode 
from  the  restaurant. 

This  is  what  the  red-headed  man  had 
read  in  the  despatch;  this  is  what  Blix 
had  written: 

"All  is  discovered.     Fly  at  once." 
And  never  in  all  their  subsequent  ram- 


Blix  169 

bles  about  the  city  did  Blix  or  Condy  set 
eyes  upon  the  red-headed  man  again,  nor 
did  Luna's  restaurant,  where  he  seemed 
to  have  been  a  habitue",  ever  afterward 
know  his  presence.  He  disappeared ;  he 
was  swallowed  up.  He  had  left  the  res- 
taurant, true.  Had  he  also  left  that 
neighborhood  ?  Had  he  fled  the  city,  the 
State,  the  country  even?  What  skeleton 
in  the  red-headed  man's  closet  had  those 
six  words  called  to  life  and  the  light  of 
day.  Had  they  frightened  him  forth  to 
spend  the  rest  of  his  days  fleeing  from  an 
unnamed,  unknown  avenger  —  a  verita- 
ble wandering  Jew?  What  mystery  had 
they  touched  upon  there  in  the  bald,  bare 
back  room  of  the  Quarter's  restaurant? 
What  dark  door  had  they  opened,  what 
red-headed  phantom  had  they  evoked? 
Had  they  broken  up  a  plot,  thwarted  a 
conspiracy,  prevented  a  crime?  They 
never  knew.  One  thing  only  was  cer- 
tain. The  red-headed  man  had  had  a 
past. 


170  Blix 

Meanwhile  the  minutes  were  passing, 
and  K.  D.  B.  still  failed  to  appear.  Cap- 
tain Jack  was  visibly  growing  impatient, 
anxious.  By  now  he  had  come  to  the 
fiery  liqueur  called  mescal.  He  was 
nearly  through  his  supper.  At  every 
moment  he  consulted  his  watch  and  fixed 
the  outside  door  with  a  scowl.  It  was 
already  twenty  minutes  after  seven. 

*  I  know  the  red-headed  man  spoiled  it, 
after  all,"  murmured   Blix.     "K.  D.  B. 
saw  the  two  of  them  in  here  and  was 
frightened." 

*  We  could  send  Captain  Jack  a  tele- 
gram from  her,"  suggested  Condy.     "I'm 
ready  for  anything  now." 

"What  could  you  say? " 

"Oh,  that  she  couldn't  come.  Make 
another  appointment." 

"He'd  be  offended  with  her.  He'd 
never  make  another  appointment.  Sea 
captains  are  always  so  punctilious,  y' 
know." 

Richard  brought  them  their  coffee  and 


Blix  171 

kirsch,  and  Condy  showed  Blix  how  to 
burn  a  lump  of  sugar  and  sweeten  the 
coffee  with  syrup.  But  they  were  disap- 
pointed. Captain  Jack  was  getting  ready 
to  leave.  K.  D.  B.  had  evidently  broken 
the  appointment. 

Then  all  at  once  she  appeared. 

They  knew  it  upon  the  instant  by  a 
brisk  opening  and  shutting  of  the  street 
door,  and  by  a  sudden  alertness  on  the 
part  of  Captain  Jack,  which  he  immedi- 
ately followed  by  a  quite  inexplicable 
move.  The  street  door  in  the  outside 
room  had  hardly  closed  before  his  hand 
shot  to  his  coat  lapel  and  tore  out  the 
two  marguerites. 

The  action  was  instinctive ;  Blix  knew 
it  for  such  immediately.  The  retired  cap- 
tain had  not  premeditated  it.  He  had 
not  seen  the  face  of  the  newcomer.  She 
had  not  time  to  come  into  the  back  room, 
or  even  to  close  the  street  door.  But  the 
instant  that  the  captain  had  recognized  a 
bunch  of  white  marguerites  in  her  belt 


172  Blix 

he  had,  without  knowing  why,  been 
moved  to  conceal  his  identity. 

"He's  afraid,"  whispered  Blix.  "Posi- 
tively, I  believe  he's  afraid.  How  abso- 
lutely stupid  men  are !  " 

But  meanwhile,  K.  D.  B.,  the  looked- 
for,  the  planned-for  and  intrigued-for; 
the  object  of  so  much  diplomacy,  such 
delicate  manoeuvring;  the  pivot  upon 
which  all  plans  were  to  turn,  the  storm- 
centre  round  which  so  many  conflicting 
currents  revolved,  and  for  whose  benefit 
the  peace  of  mind  of  the  red-headed  man 
had  been  forever  broken  up, — had  entered 
the  room. 

"  Why,  she's  pretty  !  *  was  Blix's  first 
smothered  exclamation,  as  if  she  had  ex- 
pected a  harridan. 

K.  D.  B.  looked  like  a  servant-girl  of 
the  better  sort,  and  was  really  very  neatly 
dressed.  She  was  small,  little  even. 
She  had  snappy  black  eyes^  a  resolute 
mouth,  and  a  general  air  of  being  very 
quiet,  very  matter-of-fact  and  compla- 


Blix  173 

cent.  She  would  be  disturbed  at  noth- 
ing, excited  at  nothing;  Blix  was  sure 
of  that.  She  was  placid,  but  it  was  the 
placidity  not  of  the  absence  of  emotion, 
but  of  emotion  disdained.  Not  the  pla- 
cidity of  the  mollusk,  but  that  of  a  ma- 
ture and  contemplative  cat. 

Quietly  she  sat  down  at  a  corner  table, 
quietly  she  removed  her  veil  and  gloves, 
and  quietly  she  took  in  the  room  and  its 
three  occupants. 

Condy  and  Blix  glued  their  eyes  upon 
their  coffee  cups  like  guilty  conspirators ; 
but  a  crash  of  falling  crockery  called 
their  attention  to  the  captain's  table. 

Captain  Jack  was  in  a  tremor.  Hith- 
erto he  had  acted  the  r6le  of  a  sane  and 
sensible  gentleman  of  middle  age,  master 
of  himself  and  of  the  situation.  The  en- 
trance of  K.  D.  B.  had  evidently  reduced 
him  to  a  semi-idiotic  condition.  He  en- 
larged himself;  he  eased  his  neck  in  his 
collar  with  a  rotary  movement  of  head 
and  shoulders.  He  frowned  terribly  at 


1 74  Blix 

trifling  objects  in  corners  of  the  room. 
He  cleared  his  throat  till  the  glassware 
jingled.  He  pulled  at  his  moustache. 
He  perspired,  fumed,  fretted,  and  was 
suddenly  seized  with  an  insane  desire  to 
laugh.  Once  only  he  caught  the  eye  of 
K.  D.  B.,  calmly  sitting  in  her  corner 
picking  daintily  at  her  fish,  whereupon 
he  immediately  overturned  the  vinegar 
and  pepper  casters  upon  the  floor.  Just 
so  might  have  behaved  an  overgrown 
puppy  in  the  presence  of  a  sleepy, 
unperturbed  chessy-cat,  dozing  by  the 
fire. 

"He  ought  to  be  shaken,"  murmured 
Blix  at  the  end  of  her  patience.  "  Does 
he  think  she  is  going  to  make  the  first 
move?" 

"  Ha,  ah'm !  "  thundered  the  captain, 
clearing  his  throat  for  the  twentieth  time, 
twirling  his  moustache,  and  burying  his 
scarlet  face  in  an  enormous  pocket  hand- 
kerchief. 

Five  minutes  passed  and  he  wag  still 


Blix  175 

in  his  place.  From  time  to  time  K.  D. 
B.  fixed  him  with  a  quiet,  deliberate 
look,  and  resumed  her  delicate  picking. 

"Do  you  think  she  knows  it's  he,  now 
that  he's  taken  off  his  marguerites?" 
whispered  Condy. 

"Know  it? — of  course  she  does!  Do 
you  think  women  are  absolutely  blind,  or 
so  imbecile  as  men  are?  And,  then,  if 
she  didn't  think  it  was  he,  she'd  go  away. 
And  she's  so  really  pretty,  too.  He 
ought  to  thank  his  stars  alive.  Think, 
what  a  fright  she  might  have  been !  SL 
doesn't  look  thirty-one." 

"Huh!"  returned  Condy.  "As  long 
as  she  said  she  was  thirty-one,  you  can 
bet  everything  you  have  that  she  is, 
that's  as  true  as  revealed  religion." 

"  Well,  it's  something  to  have  seen  the 
kind  of  people  who  write  the  personals," 
said  Blix.  "  I  had  always  imagined  that 
they  were  kind  of  tough." 

"You  see  they  are  not,"  he  answered 
*  I  told  you  they  were  not.  Maybe,  how- 


176  Blix 

ever,  we  have  been  exceptionally  fortu- 
nate. At  any  rate,  these  are  respectable 
enough. " 

"  Not  the  least  doubt  about  that.  But 
why  won't  he  do  something,  that  cap- 
tain?" mourned  Blix.  "Why  vrill  he 
act  like  such  a  ninny?  * 

"  He's  waiting  for  us  to  go,"  said  Condy ; 
*  I'm  sure  of  it.  They'll  never  meet  so 
long  as  we're  here.  Let's  go  and  give 
'em  a  chance.  If  you  leave  the  two 
alone  here,  one  or  the  other  will  have  to 
speak.  The  suspense  would  become  too 
terrible.  It  would  be  as  though  they 
were  on  a  desert  island." 

"But  I  wanted  to  see  them  meet,"  she 
protested. 

•"You  wouldn't  hear  what  they  said." 

"But  we'd  never  know  if  they  did 
meet,  and  oh — and  who  spoke  first?  * 

"She'll  speak  first,"  declared  Condy. 

*  Never ! "  returned  Blix,  in  an  indig- 
nant whisper. 

*  T  tell  you  what.     We  could  go  and 


Blix  177 

then  come  back  in  five  minutes.  I'll  for- 
get my  stick  here.  Savvy  ? " 

"You  would  probably  do  it  anyhow," 
she  told  him. 

They  decided  this  would  be  the  better 
course,  They  got  together  their  things, 
and  Condy  neglected  his  stick,  hanging 
upon  a  hook  on  the  wall. 

At  the  counter  in  the  outside  room, 
Blix,  to  the  stupefaction  of  Richard,  the 
waiter,  paid  the  bill.  But  as  she  was 
moving  toward  the  door,  Condy  called 
her  back. 

"Remember  the  waiter,"  he  said  severe- 
ly, while  Eichard  grinned  and  bobbed. 
"  Fifty  cents  is  the  very  least  you  could 
tip  him."  Richard  actually  protested, 
but  Condy  was  firm,  and  insisted  upon  a 
half-dollar  tip. 

*  Nollesse  oblige,"  he  declared  with  vast 
solemnity. 

They  walked  as  far  as  the  cathedral, 
listened  for  a  moment  to  the  bell  striking 

the  hour  of  eight;  then  as  they  rernem- 
xa 


178  Blix 

bered  that  the  restaurant  closed  at  that 
time,  hurried  back  and  entered  the  out- 
side room  in  feigned  perturbation. 

"Did  I,  could  I  possibly  have  left  my 
stick  here!"  exclaimed  Condy  to  Eich- 
ard,  who  was  untying  his  apron  behind 
the  counter.  But  Richard  had  not  no- 
ticed. 

*  I  think  I  must  have  left  it  back  here 
where  we  were  sitting." 

Condy  stepped  into  the  back  room, 
Blix  following.  They  got  his  stick  and 
returned  to  the  outside  room. 

"Yes,  yes,  I  did  leave  it,"  he  said,  as 
he  showed  it  to  Eichard.  I'm  always 
leaving  that  stick  wherever  I  go." 

"Come  again,"  said  Eichard,  as  he 
bowed  them  out  of  the  door. 

On  the  curb  outside  Condy  and  Blix 
shook  hands  and  congratulated  each 
other  on  the  success  of  all  their  labors. 
In  the  back  room,  seated  at  the  same 
table,  a  bunch  of  wilting  marguerites  be- 
tween them,  they  had  seen  their  "matri- 


Blix  179 

monial  objects  "  conferring  earnestly  to- 
gether, absorbed  in  the  business  of  getting 
acquainted. 

Blix  heaved  a  great  sigh  of  relief  and 
satisfaction,  exclaiming : 

"At  last  K.  D.  B.  and  Captain  Jack 
have  met ! " 


vra 

"  BUT,"  she  added,  as  they  started  to 
walk,  "we  will  never  know  which  one 
spoke  first." 

But  Condy  was  already  worrying. 

"I  don't  know,  I  don't  know,"  he  mur- 
mured anxiously.  "Perhaps  we've  done 
an  awful  thing.  Suppose  they  aren't 
happy  together  after  they're  married?  I 
wish  we  hadn't;  I  wish  we  hadn't  now. 
We've  been  playing  a  game  of  checkers 
with  human  souls.  We've  an  awful  re- 
sponsibility. Suppose  he  kills  her  some 
time?" 

"Fiddlesticks,  Condy!  And,  besides, 
if  we've  done  wrong  with  our  matrimo- 
nial objects,  we've  offset  it  by  doing  well 
with  our  red-headed  coincidence.  How 
do  you  know,  you  may  have  '  foiled  a 


Blix  181 

villain '  with  that  telegram — prevented  a 
crime?" 

Condy  grinned  at  the  recollection  of 
the  incident. 

" ' Fly  at  once/"  he  repeated.  "  I  guess 
he's  flying  yet.  '  All  is  discovered.' 
I'd  give  a  dollar  and  a  half " 

"If  you  had  it?" 

"  Oh,  well,  if  I  had  it, — to  know  just 
what  it  was  we  have  discovered." 

Suddenly  Blix  caught  his  arm. 

"  Condy,  here  they  come ! " 

"Who?     Who?" 

"  Our  objects, Captain  Jack  and  K.D.B." 

"Of  course,  of  course.  They  couldn't 
stay.  The  restaurant  shuts  up  at  eight." 

Blix  and  Condy  had  been  walking 
slowly  in  the  direction  of  Pacific  Street, 
and  K.  D.  B.  and  her  escort  soon  over- 
took them  going  in  the  same  direction. 
As  they  passed,  the  captain  was  saying: 

" — jumped  on  my  hatches,  and  says 
we'll  make  it  an  international  affair. 
That  didn't " 


1 82  Blix 

A  passing  wagon  drowned  the  sound  of 
his  voice. 

"  He  was  telling  her  of  his  adventures ! " 
cried  Blix.  "Splendid!  Othello  and 
Desdemona.  They're  getting  on." 

"  Let's  follow  them !  *  exclaimed  Condy. 

"  Should  we  ?  Wouldn't  it  be — indis- 
creet?" 

"No.  We  are  the  arbiters  of  their 
fate;  we  must  take  an  interest." 

They  allowed  their  objects  to  get  ahead 
some  half  a  block  and  then  fell  in  be- 
hind. There  was  little  danger  of  their 
being  detected.  The  captain  and  K.  D. 
B.  were  absorbed  in  each  other.  She 
had  even  taken  his  arm. 

"They  make  a  fine-looking  couple, 
really,"  said  Blix.  "Where  do  you  sup- 
pose they  are  going?  To  another  restau- 
rant?" 

But  this  was  not  the  case.  Blix  and 
Condy  followed  them  as  far  as  Washing- 
ton Square,  where  the  Geodetic  Survey 
»toi"j  stands,  and  the  enormous  flagstaff  j 


Blix  183 

and  there  in  front  of  a  commonplace  lit- 
tle house,  two  doors  above  the  Russian 
church  with  its  minarets  like  inverted 
balloons,  K.  D.  B.  and  the  captain 
halted.  For  a  few  moments  they  con- 
versed in  low  tones  at  the  gate,  then  said 
good-night,  K.  D.  B.  entering  the  house, 
the  captain  bowing  with  great  deference, 
his  hat  in  his  hand.  Then  he  turned 
about,  glanced  ^nce  or  twice  at  the  house, 
set  his  hat,  i  angle,  and  disappeared 
across  t<  whistling  a  tune,  his 

chin  in  the  a   . 

"Ve/y  good,  excellent,  highly  respect- 
able," approved  Blix  ;  and  Condy  himself 
fetched  a  sigh  of  relief. 

"Yes,  yes,  it  might  have  been  worse." 
"We'll  never  see  them  again,  our 
'  Matrimonial  Objects,'  "  said  Blix,  "and 
they'll  never  know  about  us;  but  we 
have  brought  them  together.  We've 
started  a  romance.  Yes,  I  think  we've 
done  a  good  day's  work.  And  now, 
Condy,  I  think  we  bad  best  be  thinking 


184  Blix 

of  home  ourselves.  I'm  just  beginning 
to  get  most  awfully  sleepy.  What  a  day 
we've  had ! " 

A  sea  fog,  or  rather  the  sea  fog — San 
Francisco's  old  and  inseparable  compan- 
ion— had  gathered  by  the  time  they 
reached  the  top  of  the  Washington-Street 
hill.  Everything  was  wet  with  it.  The 
asphalt  was  like  varnished  ebony.  In- 
distinct masses  and  huge  dim  shadows 
stood  for  the  houses  on  either  side. 
From  the  eucalyptus  trees  and  the  palms 
the  water  dripped  like  rain.  Far  off, 
oceanward,  the  fog-horn  was  lowing  like 
a  lost  gigantic  bull.  The  gray  bulk  of  a 
policeman — the  light  from  the  street  lamp 
reflected  in  his  star — loomed  upon  the 
corner  as  they  descended  from  the  car. 

Condy  had  intended  to  call  his  diver's 
story  "A  Submarine  Romance."  but  Blix 
had  disapproved. 

"  It's  too  *  Twenty  Thousand  Leagues 
under  the  Sea,'  "  she  had  said.  :<  You 


Blix  185 

want  something  much  more  dignified. 
There  is  that  about  you,  Condy,  you  like 
to  be  too  showy;  you  don't  know  when 
to  stop.  But  you  have  left  off  red-and- 
white  scarfs,  and  I  am  very  glad  to  see 
you  wearing  white  shirt-fronts  instead  of 
pink  ones." 

"Yes,  yes,  I  thought  it  would  be 
quieter,"  he  had  answered,  as  though  the 
idea  had  come  from  him.  Blix  allowed 
him  to  think  so. 

But  "A  Victory  Over  Death,"  as  the 
story  was  finally  called,  was  a  success. 
Condy  was  too  much  of  a  born  story-teller 
not  to  know  when  he  had  done  something 
distinctly  good.  When  the  story  came 
back  from  the  typewriter's,  with  the  ad- 
ditional strength  that  print  lends  to  fic- 
tion, and  he  had  read  it  over,  he  could 
not  repress  a  sense  of  jubilation.  The 
story  rang  true. 

"Bully,  bully!"  he  muttered  between 
his  teeth  as  he  finished  the  last  para- 
graph. "It's  a  corker!  If  it's  rejected 


i86  BlLe 

everywhere,  it's  an  out-of-sight  yarn  just 
the  same." 

And  there  Condy's  enthusiasm  in  the 
matter  began  to  dwindle.  The  fine  fire 
which  had  sustained  him  during  the 
story's  composition  had  died  out.  He 
was  satisfied  with  his  work.  He  had 
written  a  good  story,  and  that  was  the 
end  of  it.  No  doubt  he  would  send  it 
East — to  the  Centennial  Company — to- 
morrow or  the  day  after — some  time  that 
week.  To  mail  the  manuscript  meant 
quite  half  an  hour's  effort.  He  would 
have  to  buy  stamps  for  return  postage ;  a 
letter  would  have  to  be  written,  a  large 
envelope  procured,  the  accurate  address 
ascertained.  For  the  moment  his  supple- 
ment work  demanded  his  attention.  He 
put  off  sending  the  story  from  day  to 
day.  His  interest  in  it  abated.  And  for 
the  matter  he  soon  discovered  he  had 
other  things  to  think  of. 

It  had  been  easy  to  promise  Blix  that 
he  would  no  longer  gamble  at  his  club 


Blix  1 87 

with  the  other  men  of  his  acquaintance ; 
but  it  was  "  death  and  the  devil,"  as  he 
told  himself,  to  abide  by  that  promise. 
More  than  once  in  the  fortnight  follow- 
ing upon  his  resolution  he  had  come  up 
to  the  little  flat  on  the  Washington-Street 
hill  as  to  a  place  of  refuge;  and  Blix, 
always  pretending  that  it  was  all  a  huge 
joke  and  part  of  their  good  times,  had 
brought  out  the  cards  and  played  with 
him.  But  she  knew  very  well  the  fight 
he  was  making  against  the  enemy,  and 
how  hard  it  was  for  him  to  keep  from  the 
round  green  tables  and  group  of  silent 
shirt-sleeved  men  in  the  card-rooms  of 
his  club.  She  looked  forward  to  the 
time  when  Condy  would  cease  to  play 
even  with  her.  But  she  was  too  sensi- 
ble and  practical  a  girl  to  expect  him 
to  break  a  habit  of  years'  standing  in  a 
couple  of  weeks.  The  thing  would  have 
to  be  accomplished  little  by  little.  At 
times  she  had  misgivings  as  to  the  hon- 
esty of  the  course  she  had  adopted.  But 


1 88  Blix 

nowadays,  playing  as  he  did  with  her 
only,  Condy  gambled  but  two  or  three 
evenings  in  the  week,  and  then  not  for 
more  than  two  hours  at  a  time.  Hereto- 
fore hardly  an  evening  that  had  not  seen 
him  at  the  round  table  in  his  club's  card- 
room,  whence  he  had  not  risen  until  long 
after  midnight. 

Condy  had  told  young  Sargeant  that 
he  had  "  reformed  "  in  the  matter  of  gam- 
bling, and  intended  to  swear  off  for  a  few 
months.  Sargeant,  like  the  thorough- 
bred he  was,  never  urged  to  play  after 
that,  and  never  spoke  of  the  previous 
night's  game  when  Condy  was  about. 
The  other  men  of  his  "  set "  were  no  less 
thoughtful,  and,  though  they  rallied  him 
a  little  at  first  upon  his  defection,  soon 
let  the  matter  drop.  Condy  told  himself 
that  there  were  plenty  of  good  people  in 
the  world,  after  all.  Every  one  seemed 
conspiring  to  make  it  easy  for  him,  and 
he  swore  at  himself  for  a  weak-kneed 
cad. 


Blix  189 

On  a  certain  Tuesday,  about  a  week 
after  the  fishing  excursion  and  the  affair 
of  the  "Matrimonial  Objects,"  toward 
half-past  six  in  the  evening,  Condy  was 
in  his  room,  dressing  for  a  dinner  engage- 
ment. Young  Sargeant's  sister  had  in- 
vited him  to  be  one  of  a  party  who  were 
to  dine  at  the  University  Club,  and  later 
on  fill  a  box  at  a  charity  play,  given  by 
amateurs  at  one  of  the  downtown  thea- 
tres. But  as  he  was  washing  his  linen 
shirt-studs  with  his  tooth-brush,  his  eye 
fell  upon  a  note,  in  Laurie  Flagg's  hand- 
writing, that  lay  on  his  writing-desk,  and 
that  he  had  received  some  ten  days  pre- 
vious. Condy  turned  cold  upon  the  in- 
stant, hurled  the  tooth-brush  across  the 
room,  and  dropped  into  a  chair  with  a 
groan  of  despair.  Miss  Flagg  was  giving 
a  theatre  party  for  the  same  affair,  and 
he  remembered  now  that  he  had  promised 
to  join  her  party  as  well,  forgetting  all 
about  the  engagement  he  had  made  with 
Miss  Sargeant.  It  was  impossible  at  this 


1 90  Blix 

late  hour  to  accept  either  one  of  the 
young  women's  invitations  without  of- 
fending the  other. 

"Well,  I  won't  go  to  either,  that's  all," 
he  vociferated  aloud  to  the  opposite  wall. 
"  I'll  send  'em  each  a  wire,  and  say  that 
I'm  sick  or  have  got  to  go  down  to  the 
office,  and— and,  by  George!  I'll  go  up 
and  see  Blix,  and  we'll  read  and  make 
things  to  eat." 

And  no  sooner  had  this  alternative 
occurred  to  him  than  it  appeared  too  fas- 
cinating to  be  resisted.  A  weight  seemed 
removed  from  his  mind.  When  it  came 
to  that,  what  amusement  would  he  have 
at  either  affair? 

"Sit  up  there  with  your  shirt-front 
starched  like  a  board,"  he  blustered,  "and 
your  collar  throttling  you,  and  smile  till 
your  face  is  sore,  and  reel  off  small  talk 
to  a  girl  whose  last  name  you  can't  re- 
member !  Do  I  have  any  fun,  does  it  do 
me  any  good,  do  I  get  ideas  for  yarns  ? 
What  do  I  do  it  for  ?  1  don't  know." 


Blix  1 9 1 

While  speaking  he  had  been  kicking 
off  his  tight  shoes  and  such  of  his  full 
dress  as  he  had  already  put  on,  and  with 
a  feeling  of  enormous  relief  turned  again 
to  his  sack  suit  of  tweed.  "  Lord,  these 
feel  better !  *  he  exclaimed,  as  he  substi- 
tuted the  loose  business  suit  for  the 
formal  rigidity  of  his  evening  dress.  It 
was  with  a  sensation  of  positive  luxury 
that  he  put  on  a  "soft"  shirt  of  blue 
cheviot  and  his  tan  walking-shoes, 

"But  no  more  red  scarfs,"  he  declared, 
as  he  knotted  his  black  satin  "  club  "  be- 
fore the  mirror.  "She  was  right  there." 
He  put  his  cigarettes  in  his  pocket, 
caught  up  his  gloves  and  stick,  clapped 
on  his  hat,  and  started  for  the  Bessemers* 
flat  with  a  feeling  of  joyous  expectancy 
he  had  not  known  for  days. 

Evidently  Blix  had  seen  him  coming, 
for  she  opened  the  door  herself;  and  it 
suited  her  humor  for  the  moment  to  treat 
him  as  a  peddler  or  book-agent. 

"No,  no,"  she  said  airily,  her  head  in 


192  Blix 

the  air  as  she  held  the  door.  "No,  we 
don't  want  any  to-day.  We  have  the 
biography  of  Abraham  Lincoln.  Don't 
want  to  subscribe  to  any  Home  Book  of 
Art.  We're  not  artistic;  we  use  drapes 
in  our  parlors.  Don't  want  '  The  Wives 
and  Mothers  of  Great  Men.'  " 

But  Condy  had  noticed  a  couple  of 
young  women  on  the  lower  steps  of 
the  adjacent  flat,  quite  within  ear-shot, 
and  at  once  he  began  in  a  loud,  harsh 
voice: 

"  Well,  y'  know,  we  can't  wait  for  our 
rent  forever;  I'm  only  the  collector,  and 
I've  nothing  to  do  with  repairs.  Pay 
your  rent  that's  three  months  overdue, 
and  then " 

But  Blix  pulled  him  within  the  house 
and  clapped  to  the  door. 

"  Condy  Rivers  !  "  she  exclaimed,  her 
cheeks  flaming,  "  those  are  our  neighbors. 
They  heard  every  word.  What  do  you 
suppose  they  think  ?  " 

"Huh!     I'd  rather  have  'em  think  I 


Blix  193 

was  a  rent-collector  than  a  book -agent. 
You  began  it.  'Evenin ',  Miss  Lady." 

"'Evenin',  Mister  Man." 

But  Condy's  visit,  began  thus  gaily, 
soon  developed  along  much  more  serious 
lines.  After  supper,  while  the  light  still 
lasted,  Blix  read  stories  to  him  while  he 
smoked  cigarettes  in  the  bay  window  of 
the  dining-room.  But  as  soon  as  the 
light  began  to  go  she  put  the  book  aside, 
and  the  two  took  their  accustomed  places 
in  the  window,  and  watched  the  evening 
burning  itself  out  over  the  Golden  Gate. 

It  was  just  warm  enough  to  have  one 
of  the  windows  opened,  and  for  a  long 
time  after  the  dusk  they  sat  listening  to 
the  vague  clamor  of  the  city,  lapsing  by 
degrees,  till  it  settled  into  a  measured, 
soothing  murmur,  like  the  breathing  of 
some  vast  monster  asleep,  Condy's  ci- 
garette was  a  mere  red  point  in  the  half- 
darkness.  The  smoke  drifted  out  of  the 
open  window  in  long,  blue  strata.  At  his 
elbow  Blix  was  leaning  forward,  looking 


1 94  Blix 

down  upon  the  darkening,  drowsing  city4 
her  round,  strong  chin  propped  upon  her 
hand.  She  was  just  close  enough  for 
Condy  to  catch  the  sweet,  delicious  femi- 
nine perfume  that  came  indefinitely  from 
her  clothes,  her  hair,  her  neck.  From 
where  Condy  sat  he  could  see  the  silhou- 
ette of  her  head  and  shoulders  against 
the  dull  golden  blur  of  the  open  window ; 
her  round,  high  forehead,  with  the  thick 
yellow  hair  rolling  back  from  her  temples 
and  ears,  her  pink  clean  cheeks,  her  little 
dark-brown,  scintillating  eyes,  and  her 
firm  red  mouth,  made  all  the  firmer  by  the 
position  of  her  chin  upon  her  hand.  As 
ever,  her  round,  strong  neck  was  swathed 
high  and  tight  in  white  satin;  but  be- 
tween the  topmost  fold  of  the  satin  and 
the  rose  of  one  small  ear-lobe  was  a  little 
triangle  of  white  skin,  that  was  partly 
her  neck  and  partly  her  cheek,  and  that 
Condy  knew  should  be  softer  than  down, 
smoother  than  satin,  warm  and  sweet  and 
ledolent  as  new  apples.  Condy  imagined 


Blix  195 

himself  having  the  right  to  lean  toward 
her  there  and  kiss  that  little  spot  upon 
her  neck  or  her  cheek ;  and  as  he  fancied 
it,  was  surprised  to  find  his  breath  come 
suddenly  quick,  and  a  barely  perceptible 
qualm,  as  of  a  certain  faintness,  thrill 
him  to  his  finger-tips;  and  then,  he 
thought,  how  would  it  be  if  he  could, 
without  fear  of  rebuff,  reach  out  his  arm 
and  put  it  about  her  trim,  firm  waist,  and 
draw  her  very  close  to  him,  till  he  should 
feel  the  satiny  coolness  of  her  smooth 
cheek  against  his ;  till  he  could  sink  his 
face  in  the  delicious,  fragrant  confusion 
of  her  hair,  then  turn  that  face  to  his-  - 
that  face  with  its  strong,  calm  mouth  and 
sweet,  full  lips — the  face  of  this  dear 
young  girl  of  nineteen,  and  then 

"  I  say — I — shall  we — let's  read  again. 
Let's — let's  do  something." 

"  Condy,  how  you  frightened  me  1  *  ex- 
claimed Blix,  with  a  great  start.  "No, 
listen :  I  want  to  talk  to  you,  to  tell  you 
something.  Papum  and  I  have  been 


196  Blix 

having  some  very  long  and  serious  talks 
since  you  were  last  here.  What  do  you 
think,  I  may  go  away." 

"  The  deuce  you  say ! "  exclaimed  Con- 
dy, sitting  suddenly  upright.  "Where 
to,  in  Heaven's  name? "  he  added, — "and 
when?  and  what  for? " 

"To  New  York,  to  study  medicine." 

There  was  a  silence ;  then  Condy  ex- 
claimed, waving  his  hands  at  her: 

"Oh,  go  right  on!  Don't  mind  me. 
Little  thing  like  going  to  "New  York 
— to  study  medicine.  Of  course,  that 
happens  every  day,  a  mere  detail.  I 
presume  you'll  go  back  and  forth  for  your 
meals?" 

Then  Blix  began  to  explain.  It  appear- 
ed that  she  had  two  aunts,  both  sisters  of 
her  father — one  a  widow,  the  other  unmar- 
ried. The  widow,  a  certain  Mrs.  Kihm, 
lived  in  New  York,  and  was  wealthy,  and 
had  views  on  "  women's  sphere  of  useful- 
ness." The  other,  Miss  Bessemer,  a  little 
old  maid  of  fifty,  Condy  had  on  rare  oo- 


Blix  197 

casions  seen  at  the  flat,  where  every  one 
called  her  Aunt  Dodd.  She  lived  in  that 
vague  region  of  the  city  known  as  the 
Mission,  where  she  owned  a  little  prop- 
erty. 

From  what  Blix  told  him  that  evening. 
Condy  learned  that  Mrs.  Kihm  had  vis- 
ited the  coast  a  few  winters  previous  and 
had  taken  a  great  fancy  to  Blix.  Even 
then  she  had  proposed  to  Mr.  Bessemei 
to  take  Blix  back  to  New  York  with  her, 
and  educate  her  to  some  woman's  pro- 
fession; but  at  that  time  the  old  man 
would  not  listen  to  it.  Now  it  seemed 
that  the  opportunity  had  again  presented 
itself. 

"She's  a  dear  old  lady,"  Blix  said; 
"not  a  bit  strong-minded,  as  you  would 
think,  and  ever  so  much  cleverer  than 
most  men.  She  manages  all  her  property 
herself.  For  the  last  month  she's  been 
writing  again  to  Papum  for  me  to  come 
on  and  stay  with  her  three  or  four  years. 
She  hasn't  a  chick  nor  a  child,  and  she 


198  Blix 

don't  entertain  or  go  out  any,  so  may 
be  she  feels  lonesome.  Of  course  if  1 
studied  there,  Papum  wouldn't  think  of 
Aunt  Kihm — don't  you  know — paying 
for  it  at  all.  I  wouldn't  go  if  it  was 
that  way.  But  I  could  stay  with  her 
and  she  could  make  a  home  for  me  while 
I  was  there — if  I  should  study — any- 
thing— study  medicine.* 

"But  why!"  he  exclaimed.  "What 
do  you  want  to  study  to  be  a  doctor  for? 
It  isn't  as  though  you  had  to  support 
yourself." 

"  I  know,  I  know  I've  not  got  to  sup- 
port myself.  But  why  shouldn't  I  have 
a  profession  just  like  a  man — just  like 
you,  Condy?  You  stop  and  think.  It 
seemed  strange  to  me  when  I  first  thought 
of  it;  but  I  got  thinking  about  it  and 
talking  it  over  with  Papum,  and  I  should 
love  it.  I'd  do  it,  not  because  I  would 
have  to  do  it,  but  because  it  would  interest 
me.  Condy,  you  know  that  I'm  not  a 
bit  strong-minded,  and  that  I  hate  a 


Blix  199 

masculine,  unfeminine  girl  as  much  as 
you  do." 

"But  a  medical  college,  Blix!  You 
don't  know  what  you  are  talking  about,  "i 

"  Yes,  I  do.  There's  a  college  in  New 
York  just  for  women.  Aunt  Kihrn  sent 
me  the  prospectus,  and  it's  one  of  the  best 
in  the  country.  I  don't  dream  of  practis- 
ing, you  know;  at  least,  I  don't  think 
about  that  now.  But  one  must  have  some 
occupation;  and  isn't  studying  medi- 
cine, Condy,  better  than  piano-playing,  or 
French  courses,  or  literary  classes  and 
Browning  circles?  Oh,  I've  no  patience 
with  that  kind  of  girl !  And  look  at  the 
chance  I  have  now ;  and  Aunt  Kihm  is 
such  a  dear!  Think,  she  writes,  I  could 
go  to  and  from  the  college  in  her  coupe" 
every  day,  and  I  would  see  New  York; 
and  just  being  in  a  big  city  like  that  is 
an  education." 

"  You're  right,  it  would  be  a  big  thing 
for  you,"  assented  Condy,  "and  I  like 
the  idea  of  you  studying  something.  It 


2oo  Blix 

would  be  the  making  of  such  a  girl  as 
you,  Blix." 

And  then  Blix,  seeing  him  thus  ac- 
quiescent, said : 

"Well,  it's  all  settled;  Papum  and  I 
both  wrote  last  night." 
"  When  are  you  going?  " 
"The  first  week  in  January." 
"Well,   that's    not  so   awfully   soon. 
But   who   will    take   your    place   here? 
However  in  the  world  would  your  father 
get  along  without  you, — and  Snooky  and 
Howard?" 

"Aunt  Dodd  is  going  to  come." 
"Sudden  enough,"  said  Condy,  "but  it 
is  a  great  thing  for  you,  Blix,  and  I'm 
mighty  glad  for  you.  Your  future  is  all 
cut  out  for  you  now.  Of  course  your 
aunt,  if  she's  so  fond  of  you  and  hasn't 
any  children,  will  leave  you  everything 
— maybe  settle  something  on  you  right 
away;  and  you'll  marry  some  one  of 
those  New  York  chaps,  and  be  great  big 
people  before  you  know  it" 


Blix  201 

"The  idea,  Condy !"  she  protested, 
"  No ;  I'm  going  there  to  study  medicine. 
Oh,  you  don't  know  how  enthusiastic  I 
am  over  the  idea!  I've  bought  some  of 
the  first-year  books  already,  and  have 
been  reading  them.  Really,  Condy,  they 
are  even  better  than  '  Many  Inventions.'  " 

"Wish  /  could  get  East,"  muttered 
Condy  gloomily.  Blix  forgot  her  own 
good  fortune  upon  the  instant. 

"  I  do  so  wish  you  could,  Condy ! "  she 
exclaimed.  "You  are  too  good  for  a 
Sunday  supplement.  /  know  it  and  you 
know  it,  and  I've  heard  ever  so  many 
people  who  have  read  your  stories  say  the 
same  tiling.  You  could  spend  twenty 
years  working  as  you  are  now,  and  at 
the  end  what  would  you  be?  Just  an 
assistant  editor  of  a  Sunday  supplement, 
and  still  in  the  same  place ;  and  worse, 
you'd  come  to  be  contented  with  that 
and  think  you  were  only  good  for  that 
and  nothing  better.  You've  got  it  in 
you,  Condy >  to  be  a  great  story-teller.  I 


202  Blix 

believe  in  you,  and  I've  every  confidence 
in  you.  But  just  so  long  as  you  stay 
here  and  are  willing  to  do  hack  work, 
just  so  long  you  will  be  a  hack  writer. 
You  must  break  from  it;  you  must  get 
away.  I  know  you  have  a  good  time 
here ;  but  there  are  so  many  things  better 
than  that  and  more  worth  while.  You 
ought  to  make  up  your  mind  to  get  East, 
and  work  for  that  and  nothing  else.  I 
know  you  want  to  go,  but  wanting  isn't 
enough.  Enthusiasm  without  energy 
isn't  enough.  You  have  enthusiasm, 
Condy ;  but  you  must  have  energy.  You 
must  be  willing  to  give  up  things;  you 
must  make  up  your  mind  that  you  will 
go  East,  and  then  set  your  teeth  together 
and  do  it.  Oh,  I  love  a  man  that  can  do 
that — make  up  his  mind  to  a  thing  and 
then  put  it  through !  * 

Condy  watched  her  as  she  talked,  her 
brown-black  eyes  coruscating,  her  cheeks 
glowing,  her  small  hands  curled  into 
round  pink  fists. 


Blix  203 

*  Blix,  you're  splendid ! "  he  exclaimed ; 
•''you're  fine!  You  could  put  life  into  a 
dead  man.  You're  the  kind  of  girl  that 
are  the  making  of  men.  By  Jove,  you'd 
back  a  man  up,  wouldn't  you?  You'd 
stand  by  him  till  the  last  ditch.  Of 
course,"  he  went  on  after  a  pause, — "of 
course  I  ought  to  go  to  New  York.  But, 
Blix,  suppose  I  went — well,  then  what? 
It  isn't  as  though  I  had  any  income  of 
my  own,  or  rich  aunt.  Suppose  I  didn't 
find  something  to  do — and  the  chances 
are  that  I  wouldn't  for  three  or  four 
months — what  would  I  live  on  in  the 
mean  while  ?  '  What  would  the  robin  do 
then,  poor  thing?*  I'm  a  poor  young 
man,  Miss  Bessemer,  and  I've  got  to  eat. 
No;  my  only  chance  is  '  to  be  discov- 
ered' by  a  magazine  or  a  publishing 
house  or  somebody,  and  get  a  bid  of  some 
kind." 

"Well,  there  is  the  Centennial  Com- 
pany. They  have  taken  an  interest  in 
you,  Condy.  You  must  follow  that  right 


204  Blix 

up  and  keep  your  name  before  them  all 
the  time.  Have  you  sent  them  'A  Vic- 
tory Over  Death 'yet?" 

Condy  sat  down  to  his  eggs  and  coffee 
the  next  morning  in  the  hotel,  harried 
with  a  certain  sense  of  depression  and 
disappointment  for  which  he  could  as- 
sign no  cause.  Nothing  seemed  to  inter- 
est him.  The  newspaper  was  dull.  He 
could  look  forward  to  no  pleasure  in  his 
day's  work;  and  what  was  the  matter 
with  the  sun  that  morning?  As  he 
walked  down  to  the  office  he  noted  no 
«loud  in  the  sky,  but  the  brightness  was 
gone  from  the  day.  He  sat  down  to  his 
desk  and  attacked  his  work,  but  "  copy  " 
would  not  come.  The  sporting  editor 
and  his  inane  jokes  harassed  him  be- 
yond expression.  Just  the  sight  of  the 
clipping  editor's  back  was  an  irritation. 
The  office  boy  was  a  mere  incentive 
to  profanity.  There  was  no  spring  in 
Condy  that  morning,  no  elasticity,  none 
of  his  natural  buoyancy.  As  the  day 


Blix  205 

wore  on,  his  ennui  increased;  his 
luncheon  at  the  club  was  tasteless,  to- 
bacco had  lost  its  charm.  He  ordered  a 
cocktail  in  the  wine-room,  and  put  it 
aside  with  a  wry  face. 

The  afternoon  was  one  long  tedium. 
At  every  hour  he  flung  his  pencil  down, 
utterly  unable  to  formulate  the  next  sen- 
tence of  his  article,  and,  his  hands  in  his 
pockets,  gazed  gloomily  out  of  the  win- 
dow over  the  wilderness  of  roofs — grimy, 
dirty,  ugly  roofs  that  spread  out  below. 
He  craved  diversion,  amusement,  excite- 
ment. Something  there  was  that  he 
wanted  with  all  his  heart  and  soul ;  yet 
he  was  quite  unable  to  say  what  it  was. 
Something  was  gone  from  him  to-day 
that  he  had  possessed  yesterday,  and  he 
knew  he  would  not  regain  it  on  the  mor- 
row, nor  the  next  day,  nor  the  day  after 
that.  What  was  it?  He  could  not  say. 
For  half  an  hour  he  imagined  he  was  go- 
ing to  b«  sick.  His  mother  was  not  to 
be  at  home  that  evening,  and  Condy  dined 


206  Blix 

at  his  club  in  the  hopes  of  finding  some 
one  with  whom  he  could  go  to  the  the- 
atre later  on  in  the  evening,  Sargeant 
joined  him  over  his  coffee  and  cigarette, 
but  declined  to  go  with  him  to  the 
theatre. 

"Another  game  on  to-night?"  asked 
Condy. 

"  I  suppose  so,"  admitted  the  other. 

"I  guess  I'll  join  you  to-night,"  said 
Condy.  "  I've  had  the  blue  devils  since 
morning,  and  I've  got  to  have  something 
to  drive  them  off." 

"Don't  let  me  urge  you,  you  know," 
returned  Sargeant. 

"  Oh,  that's  all  right !  "  Condy  assured 
him.  "My  time's  about  up,  anyways." 

An  hour  later,  just  as  he,  Sargeant, 
and  the  other  men  of  their  "  set "  were  in 
the  act  of  going  upstairs  to  the  card- 
rooms,  a  hall-boy  gave  Condy  a  note,  at 
that  moment  brought  by  a  messenger, 
who  was  waiting  for  an  answer.  It  was 
from  Blix.  She  wrote: 


Blix  207 

'Don't  you  want  to  come  up  and  play 
cards  with  me  to-night?  We  haven't 
had  a  game  in  over  a  week." 

"  How  did  she  know  ?  "  thought  Condy 
to  himself,  —  "how  could  she  tell?" 
Aloud,  he  said : 

"I  can't  join  you  fellows,  after  all. 
'  Despatch  from  the  managing  editor.' 
Some  special  detail  or  other." 

For  the  first  time  since  the  previous 
evening  Condy  felt  his  spirits  rise  as  he 
set  off  toward  the  Washington-Street  hill 
But  though  he  and  Blix  spent  as  merry 
an  evening  as  they  remembered  in  a  long 
time,  his  nameless,  formless  irritation  re- 
turned upon  him  almost  as  soon  as  he 
had  hade  her  good-night.  It  stayed  with 
him  all  through  the  week,  and  told  upon 
his  work.  As  a  result,  three  of  his  articles 
were  thrown  out  by  the  editor. 

"  We  can't  run  such  rot  as  that  in  the 
paper,"  the  chief  had  said.  "Can't  you 
give  us  a  story?" 

*  Oh,  I've  got  a  kind  of  a  yarn  you  can 


208  Blix 

run  if  you  like,"  answered  Condy,  his 
week's  depression  at  its  very  lowest. 

"  A  Victory  Over  Death  "  was  published 
in  the  following  Sunday's  supplement  of 
The  Times,  with  illustrations  bygone  of 
the  staff  artists.  It  attracted  not  the 
least  attention. 

Just  before  he  went  to  bed  the  Sunday 
evening  of  its  appearance,  Condy  read  it 
over  again  for  the  last  time. 

"It's  a  rotten  failure,"  he  muttered 
gloomily  as  he  cast  the  paper  from  him. 
"Simple  drivel.  I  wonder  what  Blix 
will  think  of  it.  I  wonder  if  I  amount 
to  a  hill  of  beans.  I  wonder  what  she 
wants  to  go  East  for,  anyway." 


IX 

THE  old-fashioned  Union-Street  cable 
car,  with  its  low,  comfortable  outside 
seats,  put  Blix  and  Condy  down  just  in- 
side the  Presidio  Government  Reserva- 
tion. Condy  asked  a  direction  of  a  sen- 
try nursing  his  Krag-Jorgensen  at  the 
terminus  of  the  track,  and  then  with  Blix 
set  off  down  the  long  board  walk  through 
the  tunnel  of  overhanging  evergreens. 

The  day  could  not  have  been  more  de- 
sirable. It  was  a  little  after  ten  of  a 
Monday  morning,  Condy's  weekly  holi- 
day. The  air  was  neither  cool  nor  warm, 
effervescent  merely,  brisk  and  full  of  the 
smell  of  grass  and  of  the  sea.  The  sky 
was  a  speckless  sheen  of  pale  blue.  To 
their  right,  and  not  far  off,  was  the  bay, 
blue  as  indigo.  Alcatraz  seemed  close  at 
hand;  beyond  was  the  enormous  green, 
14 


210  Blix 

red,  and  purple  pyramid  of  Tamalpais 
climbing  out  of  the  water,  head  and 
shoulders  above  the  little  foot-hills,  and 
looking  out  to  the  sea  and  to  the  West. 

The  Reservation  itself  was  delightful. 
There  were  rows  of  the  officers'  houses, 
all  alike,  drawn  up  in  lines  like  an  as- 
sembly of  the  staff;  there  were  huge  bar- 
racks, most  like  college  dormitories ;  and 
on  their  porches  enlisted  men  in  shirt 
sleeves  and  overalls  were  cleaning  saddles, 
and  polishing  the  brass  of  head-stalls  and 
bridles,  whistling  the  whiles  or  smoking 
corn-cob  pipes.  Here  on  the  parade- 
ground  a  soldier,  his  coat  and  vest  re- 
moved, was  batting  grounders  and  flies  to 
a  half-dozen  of  his  fellows.  Over  by  the 
stables,  strings  of  horses,  all  of  the  same 
color,  were  being  curried  and  cleaned.  A 
young  lieutenant  upon  a  bicycle  spun  si- 
lently past  An  officer  came  from  his 
front  gate,  his  coat  unbuttoned  and  a 
briar  in  his  teeth.  The  walks  and  roads 
were  flanked  with  lines  of  black-painted 


Blix  211 

cannon-balls;  inverted  pieces  of  aban- 
doned ordnance  stood  at  corners.  From 
a  distance  came  the  mellow  snarling  of  a 
bugle. 

Blix  and  Condy  had  planned  a  long 
walk  for  that  day.  They  were  to  go  out 
through  the  Presidio  Eeservation,  past 
the  barracks  and  officers'  quarters,  and  on 
to  the  old  fort  at  the  Golden  Gate.  Here 
they  would  turn  and  follow  the  shore-line 
for  a  ways,  then  strike  inland  across  the 
hills  for  a  short  half-mile,  and  regain  the 
city  and  the  street-car  lines  by  way  of 
the  golf-links.  Condy  had  insisted  upon 
wearing  his  bicycle  outfit  for  the  occa- 
sion, and,  moreover,  carried  a  little 
satchel,  which,  he  said,  contained  a  pair 
of  shoes. 

But  Blix  was  as  sweet  as  a  rose  that 
morning,  all  in  tailor-made  black  but 
for  the  inevitable  bands  of  white  satin 
wrapped  high  and  tight  about  her  neck. 
The  St.  Bernard's  dog-collar  did  duty  as 
a  belt.  She  had  disdained  a  veil,  and 


212  Blix 

her  yellow  hair  was  already  blowing 
about  her  smooth  pink  cheeks.  She 
walked  at  his  side,  her  step  as  firm  and 
solid  as  his  own,  her  round,  strong  arms 
swinging,  her  little  brown  eyes  shining 
with  good  spirits  and  vigor,  and  the  pure, 
clean  animal  joy  of  being  alive  on  that 
fine  cool  Western  morning.  She  talked 
almost  incessantly.  She  was  positively 
garrulous.  She  talked  about  the  fine  day 
that  it  was,  about  the  queer  new  forage 
caps  of  the  soldiers,  about  the  bare  green 
hills  of  the  reservation,  about  the  little 
cemetery  they  passed  just  beyond  the  lim- 
its of  the  barracks,  about  a  rabbit  she 
saw,  and  about  the  quail  they  both  heard 
whistling  and  calling  in  the  hollows  un- 
der the  bushes. 

Condy  walked  at  her  side  in  silence, 
yet  no  less  happy  than  she,  smoking  his 
pipe  and  casting  occasional  glances  at  a 
great  ship — a  four-master  that  was  being 
towed  out  toward  the  Golden  Gate.  At 
every  moment  and  at  every  turn  they 


filix  213 

noted  things  that  interested  them,  and  to 
which  they  called  each  other's  attention. 

"Look,  Blix!" 

"Oh,  Condy,  look  at  that! " 

They  were  soon  out  of  the  miniature 
city  of  the  Post,  and  held  on  down 
through  the  low  reach  of  tulles  and  sand- 
dunes  that  stretch  between  the  barracks 
and  the  old  red  fort. 

"Look,  Condy!"  said  Blix.  "What's 
that  building  down  there  on  the  shore  of 
the  bay — the  one  with  the  flagstaff?  * 

"I  think  that  must  be  the  life-boat  sta- 
tion." 

"I  wonder  if  we  could  go  down  and 
visit  it.  I  think  it  would  be  good  fun." 

"  Idea ! "  exclaimed  Condy. 

The  station  was  close  at  hand.  To 
reach  it  they  had  but  to  leave  the  crazy 
board  walk  that  led  on  toward  the  fort, 
and  cross  a  few  hundred  yards  of  sand- 
dune.  Condy  opened  the  gate  that  broke 
the  line  of  evergreen  hedge  around  the 
little  two-story  house,  and  promptly 


214  Blix 

unchained  a  veritable  pandemonium    of 


Inside,  the  place  was  not  without  a  cer- 
tain charm  of  its  own.  A  brick  walk, 
bordered  with  shells,  led  to  the  front  of 
the  station,  which  gave  directly  upon  the 
bay;  a  little  well-kept  lawn  opened  to 
right  and  left,  and  six  or  eight  gaily- 
painted  old  row-boats  were  set  about,  half 
filled  with  loam  in  which  fuchsias,  gera- 
niums, and  mignonettes  were  flowering. 
A  cat  or  two  dozed  upon  the  window-sills 
in  the  sun.  Upon  a  sort  of  porch  over- 
head, two  of  the  crew  paced  up  and 
down  in  a  manner  that  at  once  suggested 
the  poop.  Here  and  there  was  a  gleam 
of  highly  polished  red  copper  or  brass 
trimmings.  The  bay  was  within  two 
steps  of  the  front  door,  while  a  little 
farther  down  the  beach  was  the  house 
where  the  surf-boat  was  kept,  and  the 
long  run-way  leading  down  from  it  to  the 
water.  Condy  rapped  boldly  at  the  front 
door.  It  was  opened  by  Captain  Jack. 


Blix  215 

Captain  Jack,  and  no  other;  only  now 
he  wore  a  blue  sweater  and  a  leather- 
visored  cap,  with  the  letters  U.  S.  L.  B.  S. 
around  the  band. 

Not  an  instant  was  given  them  for 
preparation.  The  thing  had  happened 
with  the  abruptness  of  a  transformation 
scene  at  a  theatre.  Condy's  knock  had 
evoked  a  situation.  Speech  was  stricken 
from  their  mouths.  For  a  moment  they 
were  bereft  even  of  action,  and  stood 
there  on  the  threshold,  staring  open- 
mouthed  and  open-eyed  at  the  sudden  re- 
appearance of  their  "matrimonial  object." 
Condy  was  literally  dumb;  in  the  end 
it  was  Blix  who  tided  them  over  the 
crisis. 

"We  were  just  going  by — just  taking  a 
walk,"  she  explained,  "and  we  thought 
we'd  like  to  see  the  station.  Is  it  all 
right?  Can  we  look  around? " 

"  Why,  of  course,"  assented  the  Captain 
with  great  cordiality,  "Come  right  in. 
This  is  visitors'  day.  You  just  happened 


2i6  Blix 

to  hit  it; — only  it's  mighty  few  visitors 
we  ever  have,"  he  added. 

While  Condy  was  registering  for  him- 
self and  Blix,  they  managed  to  exchange 
a  lightning  glance.  It  was  evident  the 
Captain  did  not  recognize  them.  The 
situation  readjusted  itself,  even  promised 
to  be  of  extraordinary  interest.  And  for 
that  matter  it  made  little  difference 
whether  the  captain  remembered  them  or 
not. 

"No,  we  don't  get  many  visitors,"  the 
Captain  went  on,  as  he  led  them  out  of 
the  station  and  down  the  small  gravel 
walk  to  the  house  where  the  surf -boat 
was  kept.  "This  is  a  quiet  station. 
People  don't  fetch  out  this  way  very 
often,  and  we're  not  called  out  very  often 
either.  We're  an  inside  post,  you  see, 
and  usually  we  don't  get  a  call  unless 
the  sea's  so  high  that  the  Cliff  House  sta- 
tion can't  launch  their  boat.  So,  you 
see,  we  don't  go  out  much ;  but  when  we 
do,  it  means  business  with  a  great  big  B. 


Blix  217 

Now  this  here,  you  see,"  continued  the 
Captain,  rolling  back  the  sliding  doors 
of  the  house,  "is  the  surf -boat.  By  the 
way,  let's  see ;  I  ain't  just  caught  your 
names  yet." 

"Well,  my  name's  Rivers,"  said  Condy, 
"  and  this  is  Miss  Bessemer.  We're  both 
from  the  city." 

"Happy  to  know  you,  sir;  happy  to 
know  you,  miss,"  he  returned,  pulling  off 
his  cap.  "  My  name's  Hoskins,  but  you 
can  just  call  me  Captain  Jack.  I'm  so 
used  to  it  that  I  don't  kind  of  answer  to 
the  other.  Well,  now,  Miss  Bessemer, 
this  here's  the  surf-boat;  she's  self -right- 
in',  self-bailin',  she  can't  capsize,  and  if  I 
was  to  tell  you  how  many  thousands  of 
dollars  she  cost,  you  wouldn't  believe  me." 

Condy  and  Blix  spent  a  delightful  half- 
hour  in  the  boat-house  while  Captain 
Jack  explained  and  illustrated,  and  told 
them  anecdotes  of  wrecks,  escapes,  and 
rescues  till  they  held  their  breaths  like 
ten-year-olds. 


2i  8  Bhx 

It  did  not  take  Condy  long  to  know 
that  he  had  discovered  what  the  story- 
teller so  often  tells  of  but  so  seldom 
finds,  and  what,  for  want  of  a  better 
name,  he  elects  to  call  "a  character." 

Captain  Jack  had  been  everywhere,  had 
seen  everything,  and  had  done  most  of  the 
things  worth  doing,  including  a  great 
many  things  that  he  had  far  better  have 
left  undone.  But  on  this  latter  point  the 
Captain  seemed  to  be  innocently  and  com- 
pletely devoid  of  a  moral  sense  of  right 
and  wrong.  It  was  quite  evident  that 
he  saw  no  matter  for  conscience  in  the 
smuggling  of  Chinamen  across  the  Cana- 
dian border  at  thirty  dollars  a  head — a 
venture  in  which  he  had  had  the  assis- 
tance of  the  prodigal  son  of  an  Ameri- 
can divine  of  international  renown.  The 
trade  to  Peruvian  insurgents  of  con- 
demned rifles  was  to  be  regretted  only 
because  the  ring  manipulating  it  was 
broken  up.  The  appropriation  of  a 
schooner  in  the  harbor  of  Callao  was  a 


Blix  2 1 9 

story  in  itself;  while  the  robbery  of 
thirty  thousand  dollars'  worth  of  sea- 
otter  skins  from  a  Eussian  trading-post 
in  Alaska,  accomplished  chiefly  through 
the  agency  of  a  barrel  of  rum  manufac- 
tured from  sugar-cane,  was  a  veritable 
achievement. 

He  had  been  born,  so  he  told  them,  in 
Winchester,  in  England,  and — Heaven 
save  the  mark! — had  been  brought  up 
with  a  view  of  taking  orders.  For  some 
time  he  was  a  choir  boy  in  the  great 
Winchester  Cathedral ;  then,  while  yet  a 
lad,  had  gone  to  sea.  He  had  been  boat- 
steerer  on  a  New  Bedford  whaler,  and 
struck  his  first  whale  when  only  sixteen. 
He  had  filibustered  down  to  Chili;  had 
acted  as  ice  pilot  on  an  Arctic  relief  ex- 
pedition ;  had  captained  a  crew  of  China- 
men  shark-fishing  in  Magdalena  Bay, 
and  had  been  nearly  murdered  by  his 
men ;  had  been  a  deep-sea  diver,  and  had 
burst  his  ear-drums  at  the  business,  so 
that  now  he  could  blow  tobacco  smoke 


220  Blix 

out  of  his  ears ;  he  had  been  shipwrecked 
iu  the  Gilberts,  fought  with  the  Seris  on 
the  lower  California  Islands,  sold  cham- 
pagne— made  from  rock  candy,  efferves- 
cent salts,  and  Eeisling  wine — to  the 
Coreans,  had  dreamed  of  "holding  up" 
a  Cunard  liner,  and  had  ridden  on 
the  Strand  in  a  hansom  with  William 
Ewart  Gladstone.  But  the  one  thing  of 
which  he  was  proud,  the  one  picture  of 
his  life  he  most  delighted  to  recall,  was 
himself  as  manager  of  a  negro  minstrel 
troupe,  in  a  hired  drum-major's  uniform, 
marching  down  the  streets  of  Sacramento 
at  the  head  of  the  brass  band  in  burnt 
cork  and  regimentals. 

"The  star  of  the  troupe,"  he  told  them, 
"was  the  lady  with  the  iron  jore.  We 
busted  in  Stockton,  and  she  gave  me  her 
diamonds  to  pawn.  I  pawned  'em,  and 
kept  back  something  in  the  hand  for 
myself  and  hooked  it  to  San  Francisco. 
Strike  me  straight  if  she  didn't  follow 
me,  that  iron-jored  piece ;  met  me  one  day 


Blix  221 

in  front  of  the  Bush-Street  Theatre,  and 
horsewhipped  me  properly.  Now,  just 
think  of  that," — and  he  laughed  as  though 
it  was  the  best  kind  of  a  joke. 

"But,"  hazarded  Blix,  "don't  you  find 
it  rather  dull  out  here — lonesome?  I 
should  think  you  would  want  to  have 
some  one  with  you  to  keep  you  company 
— to — to  do  your  cooking  for  you  ? " 

But  Condy,  ignoring  her  diplomacy 
and  thinking  only  of  possible  stories, 
blundered  off  upon  another  track. 

"Yes,"  he  said,  "you've  led  such  a  life 
of  action,  I  should  think  this  station 
would  be  pretty  dull  for  you.  How  did 
you  happen  to  choose  it? " 

"Well,  you  see,"  answered  the  Captain, 
leaning  against  the  smooth  white  flank  of 
the  surf -boat,  his  hands  in  his  pockets, 
"  I'm  lying  low  just  now.  I  got  into  a 
scrape  down  at  Libertad,  in  Mexico,  that 
made  talk,  and  I'm  waiting  for  that  to 
die  down  some.  You  see,  it  was  this 
way." 


222  BHx 

Mindful  of  their  experience  with  the 
mate  of  the  whaleback,  Condy  and  Blix 
were  all  attention  in  an  instant.  Blix 
sat  down  upon  an  upturned  box,  her 
elbows  on  her  kntes,  leaning  forward,  her 
little  eves  fixed  and  shining  with  interest 
and  expectation;  Condy,  the  story-teller 
all  alive  and  vibrant  in  him,  stood  at  her 
elbow,  smoking  cigarette,  after  cigarette, 
his  fingers  dancing  with  excitement  and 
animation  as  the  Captain  spoke. 

And  then  it  was  that  Condy  and  Blix 
in  that  isolated  station,  the  bay  lapping 
at  the  shore  within  ear-shot,  in  that  at- 
mosphere redolent  of  paint  and  oakum 
and  of  seaweed  decaying  upon  the  beach 
outside,  first  heard  the  story  of  "  In  De- 
fiance of  Authority." 

Captain  Jack  began  it  with  his  experi- 
ence as  b.  restaurant  keeper  during  the 
boom  days  in  Seattle,  Washington.  He 
told  them  how  he  was  the  cashier  of  a 
dining-saloon  whose  daily  net  profits 
exceeded  eight  hundred  dollars ;  how  its 


Blix  223 

proprietor  suddenly  died,  and  how  he, 
Captain  Jack,  continued  the  management 
of  the  restaurant  pending  a  settlement  of 
the  proprietor's  affairs  and  an  appearance 
of  heirs ;  how  in  the  confusion  and  ex- 
citement of  the  boom  no  settlement  was 
ever  made ;  and  how,  no  heirs  appearing, 
he  assumed  charge  of  the  establishment 
himself,  paying  bills,  making  contracts, 
and  signing  notes,  until  he  came  to  con- 
sider the  business  and  all  its  enormous 
profits  as  his  own ;  and  how  at  last,  when 
the  restaurant  was  burned,  he  found  him 
self  some  forty  thousand  dollars  "ahead 
of  the  game." 

Then  he  told  them  of  the  strange  club 
of  the  place,  called  "The  Exiles,"  made 
up  chiefly  of  "younger  sons  "  of  English 
and  British  -  Canadian  families,  every 
member  possessed  of  a  "past"  more  or 
less  disreputable ;  men  who  had  left  their 
country  for  their  country's  good,  and  for 
their  family's  peace  of  mind — adventur- 
ers, wanderers,  soldiers  of  fortune,  gentle- 


224  Blix 

men- vagabonds,  men  of  hyphenated  names 
and  even  noble  birth,  whose  appellations 
were  avowedly  aliases.  He  told  them 
of  his  meeting  with  Billy  Isham,  one  of 
the  club's  directors,  and  of  the  happy-go- 
lucky,  reckless,  unpractical  character  of 
the  man ;  of  their  acquaintance,  intimacy, 
and  subsequent  partnership;  of  how  the 
filibustering  project  was  started  with  Cap- 
tain Jack's  forty  thousand,  and  the  never' 
to-be-forgotten  interview  in  San  Francisco 
with  Senora  Estrada,  the  agent  of  the  in- 
surgents; of  the  incident  of  her  calling- 
card — how  she  tore  it  in  two  and  gave 
one-half  to  Isham ;  of  their  outfitting,  and 
the  broken  sextant  that  was  to  cause  their 
ultimate  discomfiture  and  disaster,  and  of 
the  voyage  to  the  rendezvous  on  a  Pana- 
ma liner. 

"  Strike  me !  *  continued  Captain  Jack, 
"you  should  have  seen  Billy  Isham  on 
that  Panama  dough-dish;  a  passenger 
ship  she  was,  and  Billy  was  the  life  of 
her  from  stem  to  stern-post.  There  was 


Blix  225 

a  church  pulpit  aboard  that  they  were 
taking  down  to  Mazatlan  for  some  chapel 
or  other,  and  this  here  pulpit  was  lashed 
on  deck  aft.  Well,  Billy  had  been  most 
kinds  of  a  fool  in  his  life,  and  amongst 
others  a  play-actor;  called  hisself  Gaston 
Maundeville,  and  was  clean  daft  on  his 
knowledge  of  Shakespeare  and  his  own 
power  of  interpretin*  the  hidden  meanin' 
of  the  lines,  I  ain't  never  going  to  for- 
git  the  day  he  gave  us  Portia's  speech* 
We  were  just  under  the  tropic,  and  the 
day  was  a  scorcher.  There  was  mostly 
men  folk  aboard,  and  we  lay  around  the 
deck  in  our  pajamas,  while  Billy — Gaston 
Maundeville,  dressed  in  striped  red  and 
white  pajamas — clum  up  in  that  bally 
pulpit,  with  the  ship's  Shakespeare  in  his 
hands,  an*  let  us  have — "The  quality  o* 
mercy  isn't  strained ;  it  droppeth  as  the 
genteel  dew  from  heavun.'  Laugh,  I  tell 
you  I  was  sore  with  it  Lord,  how  we 
guyed  him !  An*  the  more  we  guyed  and 
the  more  we  laughed,  the  more  serious 
15 


226  Blix 

he  got  and  the  madder  he  grew.  He  said 
he  was  interpretin'  the  hidden  meanin'  of 
the  lines." 

And  so  the  Captain  ran  through  that 
wild,  fiery  tale, — of  fighting  and  loving, 
buccaneering  and  conspiring;  mandolins 
tinkling,  knives  clicking;  oaths  min- 
gling with  sonnets,  and  spilled  wine  with 
spilled  blood.  He  told  them  of  Isham's 
knife  duel  with  the  Mexican  lieutenant, 
their  left  wrists  lashed  together;  of  the 
"battle  of  the  thirty  "  in  the  pitch  dark 
of  the  Custom-House  cellar;  of  Senora 
Estrada's  love  for  Isham ;  and  all  the  roll 
and  plunge  of  action  that  make  up  the 
story  of  "In  Defiance  of  Authority." 

At  the  end,  Blix's  little  eyes  were  snap- 
ping like  sparks ;  Condy's  face  was  flam- 
ing, his  hands  were  cold,  and  he  was 
shifting  his  weight  from  foot  to  foot,  like 
an  excited  thoroughbred  horse. 

"  Heavens  and  earth,  what  a  yarn !  *  he 
exclaimed  almost  in  a  whisper. 

Blix  drew  a  long,  tremulous  breath  and 


Blix  227 

sat  back  upon  the  upturned  box,  looking 
around  her  as  though  she  had  but  that 
moment  been  awakened. 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  the  Captain,  rolling  a 
cigarette.  "Yes,  sir,  those  were  great 
days.  Get  down  there  around  the  line 
in  those  little,  out-o'-the-way  republics 
along  the  South  American  coast,  and 
things  happen  to  you.  You  hold  a  man's 
life  in  the  crook  of  your  forefinger,  an' 
nothing's  done  by  halves.  If  you  hate  a 
man,  you  lay  awake  nights  biting  your 
mattress,  just  thinking  how  you  hate 
him;  an'  if  you  love  a  woman, — good 
Lord,  how  you  do  love  her! " 

"But — but!"  exclaimed  Condy,  "I 
don't  see  how  you  can  want  to  do  any- 
thing else.  Why,  you're  living  sixty  to 
the  minute  when  you're  playing  a  game 
like  that!" 

"Oh,  I  ain't  dead  yet!"  answered  the 
Captain.  "  I  got  a  few  schemes  left  that 
I  could  get  fun  out  of." 

"How  can  you  wait  a  minute!"   ex- 


228  Blix 

claimed  Blix  breathlessly.  "  Why  don'« 
you  get  a  ship  right  away — to-morrow — 
and  go  right  off  on  some  other  adventure?  * 
"Well,  I  can't  just  now,"  returned  the 
Captain,  blowing  the  smoke  from  his 
cigarette  through  his  ears.  "There's  a 
good  many  reasons;  one  of  'em  is  that 
I've  just  been  married.  * 


"MUM  —  MAR  —  MABBIED!" 
Condy,   swallowing    something    in    his 
throat. 

Blix  rose  to  her  feet. 

"Just  been  married!"  she  repeated, 
a  little  frightened.  "Why — why — why, 
how  delightful  I  * 

«Yes — yes,"  mumbled  Condy.  "How 
delightful.  I  congratulate  you!  * 

"  Come  in, — come  back  to  the  station," 
said  the  Captain  jovially,  "and  I'll  intro- 
duce you  to  m'  wife.  We  were  married 
only  last  Sunday." 

"Why,  yes — yes,  of  course,  we'd  be 
delighted,"  vociferated  the  two  conspira- 
tors a  little  hysterically, 

"She's  a  mighty  fine  little  woman," 
declared  the  Captain,  as  he  rolled  the 
door  of  the  boat-house  to  its  place  and 


230  Blix 

preceded  them  up  the  gravel  walk  to  the 
station. 

"Of  course  she  is,*  responded  Blix. 
Behind  Captain  Jack's  back  she  iixed 
Condy  with  a  wide-eyed  look,  and 
nudged  him  fiercely  with  an  elbow  to 
recall  him  to  himself;  for  Condy's  wits 
were  scattered  like  a  flock  of  terrified 
birds,  and  he  was  gazing  blankly  at  the 
Captain's  coat  collar  with  a  vacant,  ma- 
niacal smile. 

"  For  Heaven's  sake,  Condy !  *  she  had 
time  to  whisper  before  they  arrived  in  the 
hallway  of  the  station. 

But  fortunately  they  were  allowed  a 
minute  or  so  to  recover  themselves  and 
prepare  for  what  was  coming.  Captain 
Jack  ushered  them  into  what  was  either 
the  parlor,  office,  or  sitting-room  of  the 
station,  and  left  them  with  the  words : 

"Just  make  yourselves  comfortable 
here,  an*  I'll  go  fetch  the  little  woman.* 

No  sooner  had  he  gone  than  the  two 
turned  to  each  other. 


Blix  231 

•Well!' 
"Well!* 

*  We're  in  for  it  now." 

*  But  we  must  see  it  through,  Condy ; 
act  just  as  natural  as  you  can,  and  we're 
all  right." 

"But  supposing  she  recognizes  us?  * 

"Supposing  she  does,  —  what  then? 
How  are  they  to  know  that  we  wrote  the 
letters?  " 

"Sh,  Blix,  not  so  loud!  They  know 
by  now  that  they  didn't." 

"  But  it  seems  that  it  hasn't  made  any 
difference  to  them;  they  are  married. 
And  besides,  they  wouldn't  speak  about 
putting  '  personals '  in  the  paper  to  us. 
They  would  never  let  anybody  know 
that." 

"Do  you  suppose  they  could  possibly 
suspect?  * 

*  I'm  sure  they  couldn't " 
"Here  they  come.* 

"Keep    perfectly    calm,    and 
saved  * 


Blix 


"Suppose  it  isn't  K.  D.  B.,  after  all?  * 
But  it  was,  of  course,  and  she  recog- 
nized them  in  an  instant.  She  and  the 
Captain  —  the  latter  all  grins  —  came  in 
from  the  direction  of  the  kitchen,  K.  D. 
B.  wearing  a  neat  blue  calico  gown  and 
an  apron  that  was  really  a  marvel  of 
cleanliness  and  starch. 

"Kitty!"  exclaimed  Captain  Jack, 
seized  again  with  an  unexplainable  mirth, 
*  here's  some  young  folks  come  out  to  see 
the  place,  an'  I  want  you  to  know  'em. 
Mr.  Kivers,  this  is  m'  wife,  Kitty,  and 
—  lessee,  miss,  I  don't  rightly  remember 
your  name.* 

*  Bessemer  1*    exclaimed    Condy    and 
Blix  in  a  breath. 

"Oh!"  exclaimed  K.  D.  B.,  "you  were 
in  the  restaurant  the  night  that  the  Cap- 
tain and  I  —  I  —  that  is  —  yes,  I'm  quite 
sure  I've  seen  you  before."  She  turned 
from  one  to  the  other,  beginning  to  blush 
furiously. 

*  Yes,  yes,  in  Luna's  restaurant,  wasn't 


Blix  233 

it?  *  said  Condy  desperately.  *  It  seems 
to  me  I  do  just  barely  remember.* 

•And  wasn't  the  Captain  there? "  Blix 
ventured. 

"  I  forgot  my  stick,  I  remember,"  con- 
tinued Condy.  "  I  came  back  for  it;  and 
just  as  I  was  going  out,  it  se  ms  to  me  I 
saw  you  two  at  a  table  nuar  the  door.* 

He  thought  it  best  to  allow  their 
a  matrimonial  objects  "  to  believe  he  had 
not  seen  them  before. 

*Yes,  yes,  we  were  there,"  answered 
K.  D.  B.  tactfully.  "We  dine  there  al- 
most every  Monday  night" 

Blix  guessed  that  K.  D.  B.  would  pre- 
fer to  have  the  real  facts  of  the  situation 
ignored,  and  determined  she  should  have 
the  chance  to  change  the  conversation  if 
she  wished. 

"What  a  delicious  supper  one  has 
there ! "  she  said. 

"Can't  say  I  like  Mexican  cooking 
myself,"  answered  K.  D.  B.,  forgetting 
that  they  dined  there  every  Monday 


234  Blix 

night.       "Plain    United  States    a   go<xl 
enough  for  me." 

Suddenly    Captain    Jack    turned    ab 
ruptly  to  Condy,  exclaiming:  "Oh,  you 
was  the  chap  that  called  the  picture  of 
that  schooner  a  barkentine." 

""Yes;  wasn't  that  a  barkentine?"  he 
answered  innocently. 

"Barkentine  your  eye  !  "  spluttered  the 
captain.  "  Why,  that  was  a  schooner  as 
plain  as  a  pie  plate." 

But  ten  minutes  later  the  ordeal  was 
over,  and  Blix  and  Condy,  once  more 
breathing  easy,  were  on  their  walk 
again.  The  captain  and  K.  D.  B.  had 
even  accompanied  them  to  the  gate  of 
the  station,  and  had  strenuously  urged 
them  to  "  come  in  and  see  them  again 
the  next  time  they  were  out  that  way." 

"  Married ! "  murmured  Condy,  putting 
both  hands  to  his  head.  "We've  done 
it,  we've  done  it  now." 

"Well,  what  of  it?"  declared  Blix,  a 
little  defiantly.  "  I  think  it's  all  right 


Blix  235 

You  can  see  the  captain  is  in  love  with 
her,  and  she  with  him.  No,  we've  noth- 
ing to  reproach  ourselves  with/ 

"  But — hut — but  so  sudden ! "  whis- 
pered Condy,  all  aghast.  *  That's  what 
makes  me  faint — the  suddenness  of  it." 

"  It  shows  how  much  they  are  in  love, 
how — how  readily  they — adapted  them- 
selves to  each  other.  No,  it's  all  right." 

"They  seemed  to  like  us — actually." 

"  Well,  they  had  better — if  they  knew 
the  truth.  Without  us  they  never  would 
have  met." 

"  They  both  asked  us  to  come  out  and 
see  them  again,  did  you  notice  that? 
Let's  do  it,  Blix,"  Condy  suddenly  ex- 
claimed; "let's  get  to  know  them." 

*  Of  course  we  must.  Wouldn't  it  be 
fun  to  call  on  them — to  get  regularly 
acquainted  with  them !  " 

"They  might  ask  us  to  dinner  some 
time.  * 

"And  think  of  the  stories  he  could 
tell  you!" 


236  Blix 

They  enthused  immediately  upon  this 
subject,  both  talking  excitedly  at  the 
same  time,  going  over  the  details  of  the 
captain's  yarns,  recalling  the  incidents  to 
each  other. 

"Fancy I*  exclaimed  Condy — "fancy 
Billy  Isham  in  his  pajamas,  red  and 
white  stripes,  reading  Shakespeare  from 
that  pulpit  on  board  the  ship,  and  the 
other  men  guying  him!  Isn't  that  a 
scene  for  you?  Can't  you  just  see  it?  * 

*  I  wonder  if  the  captain  wasn't  mak- 
ing all  those  things  up  as  he  went  along. 
He  don't  seem  to  have  any  sense  of  right 
and  wrong  at  all.  He  might  have  been 
lying,  Condy.* 

'What  difference  would  that  make? " 

And  so  they  went  along  in  that  fine, 
clear,  Western  morning,  on  the  edge  of 
the  Continent,  both  of  them  young  and 
strong  and  vigorous,  the  Pacific  under 
their  eyes,  the  great  clean  Trades  blowing 
in  their  faces,  the  smell  of  the  salt  sea 
coming  in  long  aromatic  whiffs  to  theii 


Blix  237 

nostrils.  Young  and  strong  and  fresh, 
their  imaginations  thronging  with  pictures 
of  vigorous  action  and  adventure,  buc- 
caneering, filibustering,  and  all  the  swing, 
the  leap,  the  rush  and  gallop,  the  exu- 
berant, strong  life  of  the  great,  uncharted 
world  of  Romance. 

And  all  unknowingly  they  were  a 
Romance  in  themselves.  Cynicism,  old 
age,  and  the  weariness  of  all  things  done 
had  no  place  in  the  world  in  which  they 
walked.  They  still  had  their  illusions, 
all  the  keenness  of  their  sensations,  all 
the  vividness  of  their  impressions.  The 
simple  things  of  the  world,  the  great, 
broad,  primal  emotions  of  the  race  stirred 
in  them.  As  they  swung  along,  going 
toward  the  ocean,  their  brains  were  al- 
most as  empty  of  thought  or  of  reflection 
as  those  of  two  fine,  clean  animals. 
They  were  all  for  the  immediate  sen- 
sation; they  did  not  think — they  felt. 
The  intellect  was  dormant;  they  looked 
at  things,  they  heard  things,  they  smelt 


238  Blix 

the  smell  of  the  sea,  and  of  the  seaweed, 
of  the  fat,  rank  growth  of  cresses  in  the 
salt  marshes ;  they  turned  their  cheeks 
to  the  passing  wind,  and  filled  their 
mouths  and  breasts  with  it.  Their  life 
was  sweet  to  them ;  every  hour  was  one 
glad  effervescence.  The  fact  that  the 
ocean  was  blue  was  a  matter  for  rejoic- 
ing. It  was  good  to  be  alive  on  that 
royal  morning.  Just  to  be  young  was 
an  exhilaration;  and  everything  was 
young  with  them — the  day  was  young, 
the  country  was  young,  and  the  civiliza- 
tion to  which  they  belonged,  teeming 
there  upon  the  green,  Western  fringe  of 
the  continent,  was  young  and  heady  and 
tumultuous  with  the  boisterous,  red  blood 
of  a  new  race. 

Condy  even  forgot,  or  rather  disdained 
on  such  a  morning  as  that,  to  piece  to- 
gether and  rearrange  Captain  Jack'? 
yarns  into  story  form.  To  look  at  the 
sea  and  the  green  hills,  to  watch  the  pink 
on  Blix's  cheek  and  her  yellow  hail 


Blix  239 

blowing  across  her  eyes  and  lips,  was  bet- 
ter than  thinking.  Life  was  better  than 
literature.  To  live  was  better  than  to 
read ;  ono  live  human  being  was  better 
than  ten  thousand  Shakespeares ;  an  act 
was  better  than  a  thought.  Why,  just 
to  love  Blix,  to  be  with  her,  to  see  the 
sweet,  clean  flush  of  her  cheek,  to  know 
that  she  was  there  at  his  side,  and  to 
have  the  touch  of  her  elbow  as  they 
walked,  was  better  than  the  best  story, 
the  greatest  novel  he  could  ever  hope  to 
write.  Life  was  better  than  literature, 
and  love  was  the  "best  thing  in  life.  To 
love  Blix  and  to  be  near  her — what  else 
was  worth  while?  Could  he  ever  think 
of  finding  anything  in  life  sweeter  and 
finer  than  this  dear  young  girl  of  nine- 
teen? 

Suddenly  Condy  came  to  himself  with 
an  abrupt  start.  What  was  this  he  was 
thinking — what  was  this  he  was  telling 
himself?  Love  Blix!  He  loved  Blix! 
Why,  of  course  he  loved  her — loved  her 


240  BHx 

BO,  that  with  the  thought  of  it  there  came 
a  great,  sudden  clutch  at  the  heart  and  a 
strange  sense  of  tenderness,  so  vague  and 
yet  so  great  that  it  eluded  speech  and  all 
expression.  Love  her!  Of  course  he 
loved  her !  He  had,  all  unknowing,  loved 
her  even  before  this  wonderful  morning ; 
had  loved  her  that  day  at  the  lake,  and 
that  never-to-be-forgotten,  delicious  after- 
noon in  the  Chinese  restaurant;  all  those 
long,  quiet  evenings  spent  in  the  window 
of  the  little  dining-room,  looking  down 
upon  the  darkening  city,  he  had  loved 
her.  Why,  all  his  days  for  the  last  few 
months  had  been  full  of  the  love  of  her. 

How  else  had  he  been  so  happy  ?  how 
else  did  it  come  about  that  little  by  little 
he  was  withdrawing  from  the  society  and 
influence  of  his  artificial  world,  as  repre- 
sented by  such  men  as  Sergeant?  how 
else  was  he  slowly  loosening  the  grip  of 
the  one  evil  and  vicious  habit  that  had 
clutched  him  so  long?  how  else  was  his 
ambition  stirring?  how  else  was  his  hith- 


Blix  241 

erto  aimless  enthusiasm  hardening  to 
energy  and  determination  ?  She  had  not 
always  so  influenced  him.  In  the  days 
when  they  had  just  known  each  other, 
and  met  each  other  in  the  weekly  course 
of  their  formal  life,  it  had  not  been  so, 
even  though  they  pretended  a  certain 
amount  of  affection.  He  remembered 
the  evening  when  Blix  had  brought  those 
days  to  an  abrupt  end,  and  how  at  the 
moment  he  had  told  himself  that  after 
all  he  had  never  known  the  real  Blix. 
Since  then,  in  the  charming,  unconven- 
tional life  they  had  led,  everything  had 
been  changed.  He  had  come  to  know 
her  for  what  she  was,  to  know  her  genu- 
ine goodness,  her  sincerity,  her  contempt 
of  affectations,  her  comradeship,  her  calm, 
fine  strength  and  unbroken  good  nature; 
and  day  by  day,  here  a  little  and  there  a 
little,  his  love  for  her  had  grown  so  qui- 
etly, so  evenly,  that  he  had  never  known 
it,  until  now,  behold!  it  was  suddenly 
come  to  flower,  full  and  strong — a  flower 
16 


242  Blix 

whose  fragrance  had  suddenly  filled  all 
his  life  and  all  his  world  with  its  sweet- 


Half  an  hour  after  leaving  the  life-boat 
station,  Condy  and  Blix  reached  the  old, 
red-brick  fort,  deserted,  abandoned,  and 
rime-encrusted,  at  the  entrance  of  the 
Golden  Gate.  They  turned  its  angle,  and 
there  rolled  the  Pacific,  a  blue  floor  of 
shifting  water,  stretching  out  there  for- 
ever and  forever  over  the  curve  of  the 
earth,  over  the  shoulder  of  the  world, 
with  never  a  sail  in  view  and  never  a 
break  from  horizon  to  horizon. 

They  followed  down  the  shore,  some- 
times upon  the  old  and  broken  flume  that 
runs  along  the  seaward  face  of  the  hills 
that  rise  from  the  beach,  or  sometimes 
upon  the  beach  itself,  stepping  from 
boulder  to  boulder,  or  holding  along  at 
the  edge  of  the  water  upon  reaches  of 
white,  hard  sand. 

The  beach  was  solitary ;  not  a  soul  was 
in  sight.  Close  at  hand,  to  landward, 


Blix  243 

great  hille,  bare  and  green,  shut  off  the 
sky ;  and  here  and  there  the  land  came 
tumbling  down  into  the  sea  in  great, 
jagged,  craggy  rocks,  knee-deep  in  swirl- 
ing foam,  and  all  black  with  wet.  The 
air  was  full  of  the  prolonged  thunder  of 
the  surf,  and  at  intervals  sea-birds  passed 
overhead  with  an  occasional,  piping  cry. 
Wreckage  was  tumbled  about  here  and 
there;  and  innumerable  cocoanut  shards, 
huge,  brown  cups  of  fuzzy  bark,  lay  un- 
der foot  and  in  the  crevices  of  the  rocks. 
They  found  a  jelly-fish — a  pulpy,  trans- 
lucent mass;  and  once  even  caught  a 
sight  of  a  seal  in  the  hollow  of  a  breaker, 
with  sleek  and  shining  head,  his  barbels 
bristling,  and  heard  his  hoarse  croaking 
bark  as  he  hunted  the  off-shore  fish. 

Blix  refused  to  allow  Condy  to  help 
her  in  the  least.  She  was  quite  as  active 
and  strong  as  he,  and  clambered  from 
rock  to  rock  and  over  the  shattered 
scantling  of  the  flume  with  the  vigor 
and  agility  of  a  young  boy.  She  mud- 


244 

died  her  shoes  to  the  very  tops,  scratched 
her  hands,  tore  her  skirt,  and  even  twist- 
ed her  ankle;  but  her  little  eyes  were 
never  so  bright,  nor  was  the  pink  flush 
of  her  cheeks  ever  more  adorable.  And 
she  was  never  done  talking — a  veritable 
chatterbox.  She  saw  everything  and 
talked  about  everything  she  saw,  quite 
indifferent  as  to  whether  or  no  Condy 
listened.  Now  it  was  a  queer  bit  of  sea- 
weed, now  it  was  a  group  of  gulls  clam- 
oring over  a  dead  fish,  now  a  purple 
star-fish,  now  a  breaker  of  unusual  size. 
Her  splendid  vitality  carried  her  away. 
She  was  excited,  alive  to  her  very  finger- 
tips, vibrant  to  the  least  sensation,  quiv- 
ering to  the  least  impression. 

"  Let's  get  up  here  and  sit  down  some- 
where," said  Condy,  at  length. 

They  left  the  beach  and  climbed  up 
the  slope  of  the  hills,  near  a  point  where 
a  long  arm  of  land  thrust  out  into  the 
sea  and  shut  off  the  wind ;  a  path  was 
there,  and  they  followed  it  for  a  few 


Blix  245 

yards,  till  they  had  come  to  a  little  am- 
phitheatre surrounded  with  blackberry 
bushes. 

Here  they  sat  down,  Blix  settling 
herself  on  an  old  log  with  a  little  sigh 
of  contentment,  Condy  stretching  himself 
out,  a  new-lit  pipe  in  his  teeth,  his  head 
resting  on  tne  little  handbag  he  had  per- 
sistently carried  ever  since  morning. 
Then  Blix  fell  suddenly  silent,  and  for  a 
long  time  the  two  sat  there  without 
speaking,  absorbed  in  the  enjoyment  of 
looking  at  the  enormous  green  hills  roll- 
ing down  to  the  sea,  the  breakers  thun- 
dering at  the  beach,  the  gashed  pinnacles 
of  rock,  the  vast  reach  of  the  Pacific,  and 
the  distant  prospect  of  the  old  fort  at  the 
entrance  of  the  Golden  Gate. 

"  We  might  be  a  thousand  miles  away 
from  the  city,  for  all  the  looks  of  it, 
mightn't  we,  Condy?  "  said  Blix,  after  a 
while.  "And  I'm  that  hungry!  It 
must  be  nearly  noon." 

For  answer,  Condy  sat  up  with  pro- 


246  Blix 

found  gravity,  and  with .  a  great  air  of 
nonchalance  opened  the  handbag,  and, 
instead  of  shoes,  took  out,  first,  a  pint 
bottle  of  claret,  then  "devilish"  ham 
sandwiches  in  oiled  paper,  a  bottle  of 
stuffed  olives,  a  great  bag  of  salted  al- 
monds, two  little  tumblers,  a  paper-cov- 
ered novel,  and  a  mouth  organ. 

Blix  fairly  crowed  with  delight,  clasp- 
ing her  hands  upon  her  knees,  and  rock- 
ing to  and  fro  where  she  sat  upon  the 
log. 

"Oh,  Condy,  and  you  thought  of  a 
lunch — you  said  it  was  shoes — and  you 
remembered  I  loved  stuffed  olives,  too; 
and  a  book  to  read.  What  is  it—'  The 
Seven  Seas.'  No,  I  never  was  so  happy. 
But  the  mouth  organ — what's  that  for? " 

"  To  play  on.  What  did  you  think — 
think  it  was  a  can-opener?  " 

Blix  choked  with  merriment  over  his 
foolery,  and  Condy  added  proudly: 

"Look   there!     /  made    those    sand 
wiches ! " 


Blix  247 

They  looked  as  though  he  had — great, 
fat  chunks  of  bread,  the  crust  still  on; 
the  "devilish*  ham  in  thick  strata  be- 
tween ;  and,  positively,  he  had  buttered 
the  bread.  But  it  was  all  one  with 
them ;  they  ate  as  though  at  a  banquet, 
and  Blix  even  took  off  her  hat  and  hung 
it  upon  one  of  the  near-by  bushes.  Of 
course  Condy  had  forgotten  a  corkscrew. 
He  tried  to  dig  out  the  cork  of  the  clareb 
bottle  with  his  knife,  until  he  had  broken 
both  blades  and  was  about  to  give  up  in 
despair,  when  Blix,  at  the  end  of  her 
patience,  took  the  bottle  from  him  and 
pushed  in  the  cork  with  her  finger. 

*Wine,  music,  literature,  and  feast- 
ing," observed  Condy.  "We're  getting 
regularly  luxurious,  just  like  Sardine- 


But  Condy  himself  had  suddenly  en- 
tered into  an  atmosphere  of  happiness 
the  like  of  which  he  had  never  known  or 
dreamed  of  before.  He  loved  Blix — he 
had  just  discovered  it.  He  loved  her 


248  Blix 

because  she  was  so  genuine,  so  radiantly 
fresh  and  strong;  loved  her  because  she 
liked  the  things  that  he  liked,  because 
they  two  looked  at  the  world  from  pre- 
cisely the  same  point  of  view,  hating 
shams  and  affectations,  happy  in  the 
things  that  were  simple  and  honest  and 
natural.  He  loved  her  because  she  liked 
his  books,  appreciating  the  things  therein 
that  he  appreciated,  liking  what  he  liked, 
disapproving  of  what  he  condemned. 
He  loved  her  because  she  was  nineteen, 
and  because  she  was  so  young  and  un- 
spoiled and  was  happy  just  because  the 
ocean  was  blue  and  the  morning  fine. 
He  loved  her  because  she  was  so  pretty, 
because  of  the  softness  of  her  yellow  hair, 
because  of  her  round,  white  forehead  and 
pink  cheeks,  because  of  her  little,  dark- 
brown  eyes,  with  that  look  in  them  as  if 
she  were  just  done  smiling  or  just  about 
to  smile,  one  could  not  say  which; 
loved  her  because  of  her  good,  firm 
mouth  and  chin,  because  of  her  full  neck 


Blix  249 

and  its  high,  tight  bands  of  white  satin. 
And  he  loved  her  because  her  arms  were 
strong  and  round,  and  because  she  wore 
the  great  dog  collar  around  her  trim, 
firm-corseted  waist,  and  because  there 
emanated  from  her  with  every  move- 
ment a  barely  perceptible,  delicious,  fem- 
inine odor,  that  was  in  part  perfume,  but 
mostly  a  subtle,  vague  aroma,  charming 
beyond  words,  that  came  from  her  mouth, 
her  hair,  her  neck,  her  arms,  her  whole 
sweet  personality.  And  he  loved  her 
because  she  was  herself,  because  she  was 
Blix,  because  of  that  strange,  sweet  influ- 
ence that  was  disengaged  from  her  in 
those  quiet  moments  when  she  seemed  so 
close  to  him,  when  some  unnamed,  mys- 
terious, sixth  sense  in  him  stirred  and 
woke  and  told  him  of  her  goodness,  of 
her  clean  purity  and  womanliness ;  and 
that  certain,  vague  tenderness  in  him 
went  out  toward  her,  a  tenderness  not  for 
her  only,  but  for  all  the  good  things  of 
the  world;  and  he  felt  his  nobler  side 


250  Blix 

rousing  up  and  the  awakening  of  the  de- 
sire to  be  his  better  self. 

Covertly  he  looked  at  her,  as  she  sat 
near  him,  her  yellow  hair  rolling  and 
blowing  back  from  her  forehead,  her 
hands  clasped  over  her  knee,  looking  out 
over  the  ocean,  thoughtful,  her  eyes 
wide. 

She  had  told  him  she  did  not  love 
him.  Condy  remembered  that  perfectly 
well.  She  was  sincere  in  the  matter; 
she  did  not  love  him.  That  subject  had 
been  once  and  for  all  banished  from  their 
intercourse.  And  it  was  because  of  that 
very  reason  that  their  companionship  of 
the  last  three  or  four  months  had  been  so 
charming.  She  looked  upon  him  merely 
as  a  chum.  She  had  not  changed  in  the 
least  from  that  time  until  now,  whereas 
he — why,  all  his  world  was  new  for  him 
that  morning!  Why,  he  loved  her  so, 
she  had  become  so  dear  to  him,  that  the 
very  thought  of  her  made  his  heart  swell 
and  leap. 


Blix  251 

But  he  must  keep  all  this  to  himself. 
If  he  spoke  to  her,  told  her  of  how  he 
loved  her,  it  would  spoil  and  end  their 
companionship  upon  the  instant.  They 
had  hoth  agreed  upon  that;  they  had 
tried  the  other,  and  it  had  worked  out. 
As  lovers  they  had  wearied  of  each  other; 
as  chums  they  had  been  perfectly  conge- 
nial, thoroughly  and  completely  happy. 

Condy  set  his  teeth.  It  was  a  hard 
situation.  He  must  choose  between 
bringing  an  end  to  this  charming  com- 
radeship '  of  theirs,  or  else  fight  back  all 
show  of  love  for  her,  keep  it  down  and 
under  hand,  and  that  at  a  time  when 
every  nerve  of  him  quivered  like  a  smit- 
ten harp-string.  It  was  not  in  him  or 
in  his  temperament  to  love  her  calmly, 
quietly,  or  at  a  distance ;  he  wanted  the 
touch  of  her  hand,  the  touch  of  her  cool, 
smooth  cheek,  the  delicious  aroma  of  her 
breath  in  his  nostrils,  her  lips  against  his, 
her  hair  and  all  its  fragrance  in  his  face. 

'Condy,  what's    the    matter?*     Blix 


was  looking  at  him  with  an  expression  of 
no  little  concern.  "  What  are  you  frown- 
ing so  about,  and  clinching  your  fists? 
And  you're  pale,  too.  What's  gone 
wrong?" 

He  shot  a  glance  at  her,  and  bestirred 
himself  sharply. 

"Isn't  this  a  jolly  little  corner?"  he 
said.  "  Blix,  how  long  is  it  before  you 
go?" 

"Six  weeks  from  to-morrow." 

"And  you're  going  to  be  gone  four 
years — four  years!  Maybe  you  never 
will  come  back.  Can't  tell  what  will 
happen  in  four  years.  Where's  the 
blooming  mouth-organ?" 

But  the  mouth-organ  was  full  of 
crumbs.  Condy  could  not  play  on  it. 
To  all  his  efforts  it  responded  only  by 
gasps,  mournfullest  death-rattles,  and  la- 
mentable wails.  Condy  hurled  it  into  the 
sea. 

"Well,  where's  the  blooming  book, 
then?"  he  demanded.  "You're  sitting 


Blix  253 

on  it,  Blix.  Here,  read  something  in  it- 
Open  it  anywhere." 

"No;  you  read  to  me." 

*  I  will  not.  Haven't  I  done  enough  ? 
Didn't  I  luy  the  book  and  get  the  lunch, 
and  make  the  sandwiches,  and  pay  the 
car-fare.  I  think  this  expedition  will 
cost  me  pretty  near  three  dollars  before 
we're  through  with  the  day.  No;  the 
least  you  can  do  is  to  read  to  me.  Here, 
we'll  match  for  it." 

Condy  drew  a  dime  from  his  pocket, 
and  Blix  a  quarter  from  her  purse. 

"You're  matching  me*  she  said. 

Condy  tossed  the  coin  and  lost,  and 
Blix  said,  as  he  picked  up  the  book: 

"  For  a  man  that  has  such  unvarying 
bad  luck  as  you,  gambling  is  just  simple 
madness.  You  and  I  have  never  played 
a  game  of  poker  yet  that  I've  not  won 
every  cent  of  money  you  had." 

"Yes;  and  what  are  you  doing  with  it 
allf 

"Spending   it,"  she    returned   loftily; 


254 

'gloves  and  veils  and  lace  pins  —  all 
kinds  of  things." 

But  Condy  knew  the  way  she  spoke 
that  this  was  not  true. 

For  the  next  hour  or  so  he  read  to  her 
from  "  The  Seven  Seas,"  while  the  after- 
noon passed,  the  wind  stirring  the  chap- 
paral  and  blackberry  bushes  in  the  hollows 
of  the  huge,  bare  hills,  the  surf  rolling 
and  grumbling  on  the  beach  below,  the 
sea-birds  wheeling  overhead.  Blix  lis- 
tened intently,  but  Condy  could  not  have 
told  of  what  he  was  reading.  Living  was 
better  than  reading,  life  was  better  than 
literature,  and  his  new-found  love  for  her 
was  poetry  enough  for  him.  He  read  so 
that  he  might  not  talk  to  her  or  look  at 
her,  for  it  seemed  to  him  at  times  as 
though  some  second  self  in  him  would 
speak  and  betray  him  in  spite  of  his  best 
efforts.  Never  before  in  all  his'  life  had 
he  been  so  happy;  never  before  had  he 
been  so  troubled.  He  began  to  jumble 
the  lines  and  words  us  he  read,  overrun 


Blix  255 

ning  periods,  even  turning  two  pages  at 
once. 

"What  a  splendid  line!*  Blix  ex- 
claimed. 

"What  line  —  what — what  are  you 
talking  about?  Blix,  let's  always  re- 
member to-day.  Let's  make  a  promise, 
no  matter  what  happens  or  where  we 
are,  let's  always  write  to  each  other  on 
the  anniversary  of  to-day.  What  do  you 
say?" 

*  Yes ;  I'll  promise — and  you " 

"I'll  promise  faithfully.  Oh,  I'll 
never  forget  to-day  nor — yes,  yes,  I'll 
promise  —  why,  to-day — Blix  —  where's 
that  damn  book  gone?  * 

"Condy!" 

" Well,  I  can't  find  the  book.  You're 
sitting  on  it  again.  Confound  the  book, 
any  way  1  Let's  walk  some  more." 

"  We've  a  long  ways  to  go  if  we're  to 
get  home  in  time  for  supper.  Let's  go 
to  Luna's  for  supper." 

"I  never  saw  such  a  girl  as  you  to 


256  Blix 

think  of  ways  for  spending  money. 
What  kind  of  a  purse-proud  plutocrat  do 
you  think  I  am  ?  I've  only  seventy-five 
cents  left.  How  much  have  you  got?  * 

Blix  had  fifty-five  cents  in  her  purse, 
and  they  had  a  grave  council  over  their 
finances.  They  had  just  enough  for 
car-fare  and  two  "suppers  Mexican," 
with  ten  cents  left  over. 

"  That's  for  Eichard's  tip,"  said  Blix. 

"  That's  for  my  cigar,"  he  retorted. 

"You  made  me  give  him  fifty  cents. 
You  said  it  was  the  least  I  could  offer 
him — noblesse  oblige." 

"Well,  then,  I  couldn't  offer  him  a 
dime,  don't  you  see?  I'll  tell  him  we 
are  broke  this  time." 

They  started  home,  not  as  they  had 
come,  but  climbing  the  hill  and  going  on 
across  a  breezy  open  down,  radiant  with 
blue  iris,  wild  heliotrope,  yellow  poppies, 
and  even  a  violet  here  and  there.  A 
little  further  on  they  gained  one  of  the 
roads  of  the  Reservation,  red  earth 


Blix  257 

smooth  as  a  billiard  table;  and  just  at 
an  angle  where  the  road  made  a  sharp 
elbow  and  trended  cityward,  they  paused 
for  a  moment  and  looked  down  and  back 
at  the  superb  view  of  the  ocean,  the  vast 
half -moon  of  land,  and  the  rolling  hills  in 
the  foreground  tumbling  down  toward 
the  beach  and  all  spangled  with  wild 
flowers. 

Some  fifteen  minutes  later  they  reached 
the  golf  links. 

"We  can  go  across  the  links,"  said 
Condy,  "and  strike  any  number  of  car 
lines  on  the  other  side.* 

They  left  the  road  and  struck  across 
the  links,  Condy  smoking  his  new-lit 
pipe.  But  as  they  came  around  the  edge 
of  a  long  line  of  eucalyptus  trees  near  the 
teeing  ground,  a  warning  voice  suddenly 
called  out: 

•Fore!" 

Condy  and  Blix  looked  up  sharply,  and 
there  in  a  group  not  twenty  feet  away,  in 
tweeds  and  "knickers,"  in  smart,  short 
17 


25  3  Blix 

golfing  skirts  and  plaid  cloaks,  they  saw 
young  Sargeant  and  his  sister,  two  other 
girls  whom  they  knew  as  members  of  the 
fashionable  "set,"  and  Jack  Carter  in  the 
act  of  swinging  his  driving  iron. 


XI 

As  the  clock  In  the  library  of  the  club 
struck  midnight,  Condy  laid  down  his 
pen,  shoved  the  closely  written  sheets  of 
paper  from  him,  and  leaned  back  in  his 
chair,  his  fingers  to  his  tired  eyes.  He 
was  sitting  at  a  desk  in  one  of  the  farther 
corners  of  the  room  and  shut  off  by  a 
great  Japanese  screen.  He  was  in  his 
shirt-sleeves,  his  hair  was  tumbled,  his 
fingers  ink-stained,  and  his  face  a  little 
pale. 

Since  late  in  the  evening  he  had  been 
steadily  writing.  Three  chapters  of  *  In 
Defiance  of  Authority  ~  were  done,  and 
he  was  now  at  work  on  the  fourth.  The 
day  after  the  excursion  to  the  Presidio — 
that  wonderful  event  which  seemed  to 
Condy  to  mark  the  birthday  of  some  new 
man  within  him — the  idea  had  suddenly 


260  Blix 

occurred  to  him  that  Captain  Jack's  story 
of  the  club  of  the  exiles,  the  boom  restau- 
rant, and  the  filibustering  expedition  was 
precisely  the  novel  of  adventure  of  which 
the  Centennial  Company  had  spoken. 
At  once  he  had  set  to  work  upon  it,  with 
an  enthusiasm  that,  with  shut  teeth,  he 
declared  would  not  be  lacking  in  energy. 
The  story  would  have  to  be  written  out 
of  his  business  hours.  That  meant  he 
would  have  to  give  up  his  evenings  to  it. 
But  he  had  done  this,  and  for  nearly  a 
week  had  settled  himself  to  his  task  in 
the  quiet  corner  of  the  club  at  eight 
o'clock,  and  held  to  it  resolutely  until 
twelve. 

The  first  two  chapters  had  run  off 
his  pen  with  delightful  ease.  The  third 
came  harder;  the  events  and  incidents  of 
the  story  became  confused  and  contradic- 
tory ;  the  character  of  Billy  Isham  obsti- 
nately refused  to  take  the  prominent 
place  which  Condy  had  designed  for  him ; 
and  with  the  beginning  of  the  fourth 


Blix  261 

chapter,  Condy  had  finally  come  to  know 
the  enormous  difficulties,  the  exaspera- 
ting complications,  the  discouragements 
that  begin  anew  with  every  paragraph, 
the  obstacles  that  refuse  to  be  surmount- 
ed, and  all  the  pain,  the  labor,  the  down- 
right mental  travail  and  anguish  that  fall 
to  the  lot  of  the  writer  of  novels. 

To  write  a  short  story  with  the  end  in 
plain  sight  from  the  beginning  was  an 
easy  matter  compared  to  the  upbuilding, 
grain  by  grain,  atom  by  atom,  of  the  fab- 
ric of  "In  Defiance  of  Authority."  Con- 
dy soon  found  that  there  was  but  one 
way  to  go  about  the  business.  He  must 
shut  his  eyes  to  the  end  of  his  novel — 
that  far-off,  divine  event — and  take  his 
task  chapter  by  chapter,  even  paragraph 
by  paragraph ;  grinding  out  the  tale,  as 
it  were,  by  main  strength,  driving  his 
pen  from  line  to  line,  hating  the  effort, 
happy  only  with  the  termination  of  each 
chapter,  and  working  away,  hour  by  hour, 
minute  by  minute,  with  the  dogged,  sul- 


262  Blix 

len,  hammer-  and-tongs  obstinacy  of  the 
galley-slave,  scourged  to  his  daily  toil. 

At  times  the  tale,  apparently  out  of 
sheer  perversity,  would  come  to  a  full 
stop.  To  write  another  word  seemed  be- 
yond the  power  of  human  ingenuity,  and 
for  an  hour  or  more  Condy  would  sit 
scowling  at  the  half-written  page,  gnaw- 
ing his  nails,  scouring  his  hair,  dipping 
his  pen  into  the  ink-well,  and  squaring 
himself  to  the  sheet  of  paper,  all  to  no 
purpose. 

There  was  no  pleasure  in  it  for  him. 
A  character  once  fixed  in  his  mind,  a 
scene  once  pictured  in  his  imagination, 
and  even  before  he  had  written  a  word 
the  character  lost  the  charm  of  its  nov- 
elty, the  scene  the  freshness  of  its  origi- 
nal conception.  Then,  with  infinite 
painstaking  and  with  a  patience  little 
short  of  miraculous,  he  must  slowly  build 
up,  brick  by  brick,  the  plan  his  brain  had 
outlined  in  a  single  instant.  It  was 
all  work — hard,  disagreeable,  laborious 


Blix  263 

work ;  and  no  juggling  with  phrases,  no 
false  notions  as  to  the  "delight  of  crea- 
tion," could  make  it  appear  otherwise, 
"And  for  what,"  he  muttered  as  he  rose, 
rolled  up  his  sheaf  of  manuscript,  and 
put  on  his  coat;  "what  do  I  do  it  for,  1 
don't  know." 

It  was  beyond  question  that,  had  he 
begun  his  novel  three  months  before  this 
time,  Condy  would  have  long  since  aban- 
doned the  hateful  task.  But  Blix  had 
changed  all  that.  A  sudden  male  force 
had  begun  to  develop  in  Condy.  A  mas- 
ter-emotion had  shaken  him,  and  he  had 
commenced  to  see  and  to  feel  the  serious, 
more  abiding,  and  perhaps  the  sterner 
side  of  life.  Blix  had  steadied  him, 
there  was  no  denying  that.  He  was  not 
quite  the  same  boyish,  hairbrained  fel- 
low who  had  made  "a  buffoon  of  him- 
self" in  the  Chinese  restaurant,  three 
months  before. 

The  cars  had  stopped  running  by  the 
time  Condy  reached  the  street.  He 


264  Blix 

walked  home  and  flung  himself  to  bedj 
his  mind  tired,  his  nerves  unstrung,  and 
ail  the  blood  of  his  body  apparently 
concentrated  in  his  brain.  Working  at 
nie;ht  after  writing  all  day  long  was 
telling  upon  him,  and  he  knew  it. 

What  with  his  work  and  his  compan- 
ionship with  Blix,  Condy  soon  began  to 
drop  out  of  his  wonted  place  in  his  "set." 
He  was  obliged  to  decline  one  invitation 
after  another  that  would  take  him  out  in 
the  evening,  and  instead  of  lunching  at 
his  club  with  Sargeant  or  George  Hands, 
as  he  had  been  accustomed  to  do  at  one 
time,  he  fell  into  another  habit  of  lunch- 
ing with  Blix  at  the  flat  on  Washington 
Street,  and  spending  the  two  hours  al- 
lowed to  him  in  the  middle  of  the  day 
in  her  company. 

Condy  *s  desertion  of  them  was  often 
spoken  of  by  the  men  of  his  club  with 
whom  he  had  been  at  one  time  so  inti- 
mate, and  the  subject  happened  to  be 
Drought  up  again  one  noon  when  Jack 


Blix 


Carter  was  in  the  club  as  George  Hands' 
guest.  Hands,  Carter,  and  Eckert  were 
at  one  of  the  windows  over  their  after- 
dinner  cigars  and  liqueurs. 

"I  say,"  said  Eckert  suddenly,  "who's 
that  girl  across  the  street  there  —  the  one 
in  black,  just  going  by  that  furrier's 
sign?  I've  seen  her  somewhere  before. 
Know  who  it  is?" 

•  "That's  Miss  Bessemer,  isn't  it?  "  said 
George  Hands,  leaning  forward.  "Bath- 
er a  stunning-looking  girl." 

"Yes,  that's  Travis  Bessemer,"  assent- 
ed Jack  Carter;  adding,  a  moment  later, 
"It's  too  bad  about  that  girl." 

"What's  the  matter?  "  asked  Eckert. 

Carter  lifted  a  shoulder.  "  Isn't  any- 
thing  the  matter  as  far  as  I  know,  only 
somehow  the  best  people  have  dropped 
her.  She  used  to  be  received  every- 
where." 

"  Come  to  think,  I  haven't  seen  her  out 
much  this  season,"  said  Eckert.  "But  I 
heard  she  had  bolted  from  '  Society  '  with 


266  Blix 

the  big  S,  and  was  going  East — going  to 
study  medicine,  I  believe." 

"I've  always  noticed,"  said  Carter, 
with  a  smile,  "that  so  soon  as  a  girl  is 
declassee,  she  develops  a  purpose  in  life, 
and  gets  earnest,  and  all  that  sort  of 
thing." 

"Oh,  well,  come,"  growled  George 
Hands.  "Travis  Bessemer  is  not  dedas- 
ste.m 

*  I  didn't  say  she  was,"  answered  Car- 
ter; "but  she  has  made  herself  talked 
about  a  good  deal  lately.  Going  around 
with  Rivers,  as  she  does,  isn't  the  most 
discreet  thing  in  the  world.  Of  course 
it's  all  right,  but  it  all  makes  talk ;  and 
I  came  across  them  by  a  grove  of  trees 
out  on  the  links  the  other  day " 

"Yes,"  observed  Sargeant,  leaning  on 
the  back  of  Carter's  armchair;  "yes;  and 
I  noticed,  too,  that  she  cut  you  dead. 
You  fellows  should  have  been  there,"  he 
went  on,  in  perfect  good  humor,  turning 
to  the  others.  *  You  missed  a  good  little 


Blix  267 

scene.  Rivers  and  Miss  Bessemer  had 
been  taking  a  tramp  over  the  Eeservation 
— and,  by  the  way,  it's  a  great  place  to 
walk,  so  my  sister  tells  me;  she  and 
Dick  Forsythe  take  a  constitutional  out 
there  every  Saturday  morning — well,  as 
I  was  saying,  Eivers  and  Miss  Bessemer 
came  upon  our  party  rather  unexpect- 
edly. "We  were  all  togged  out  in  our 
golfing  bags,  and  I  presume  we  looked 
more  like  tailor's  models,  posing  for  the 
gallery,  than  people  who  were  taking  an 
outing;  but  Rivers  and  Miss  Bessemer 
had  been  regularly  exercising;  looked  as 
though  they  had  done  their  fifteen  miles 
since  morning.  They  had  their  old 
clothes  on,  and  they  were  dusty  and 
muddy. 

"You  would  have  thought  that  a 
young  girl  such  as  Miss  Bessemer  is — 
for  she's  very  young — would  have  been  a 
little  embarrassed  at  running  up  against 
such  a  spick  and  span  lot  as  we  were. 
Not  a  bit  of  it ;  didn't  lose  her  poise  f ot 


268  Blix 

a  moment.  She  bowed  to  my  sister  and 
to  me,  as  though  from  the  top  of  a  drag, 
by  Jove!  and  as  though  she  were  fresh 
from  Redfern  and  Virot.  You  know  a 
girl  that  can  manage  herself  that  way  is 
a  thoroughbred.  She  even  remembered 
to  cut  little  Johnnie  Carter  here,  because 
Johnnie  forced  himself  upon  her  one 
night  at  a  dance  when  he  was  drunk; 
didn't  she,  Johnnie?  Johnnie  came  up 
to  her  there,  out  on  the  links,  fresh  as 
a  daisy,  and  put  out  his  hand,  with, 
:  Why,  how  do  you  do,  Miss  Bessemer?  ' 
and  '  wherever  did  you  come  from  ? '  and 
1 1  haven't  seen  you  in  so  long ' ;  and  she 
says,  '  No,  not  since  our  last  dance,  I 
believe,  Mr.  Carter/  and  looked  at  his 
hand  as  though  it  was  something  funny. 
*  Little  Johnnie  mumbled  and  flushed 
and  stammered  and  backed  off;  and  it 
was  well  that  he  did,  because  Rivers  had 
begun  to  get  red  around  the  wattles.  1 
say  the  little  girl  is  a  thoroughbred,  and 
roy  sister  wants  to  give  her  a  dinner  as 


Blix  269 

soon  as  she  comes  out.  But  Johnnie 
says  she's  declasste,  so  may  be  my  sister 
had  better  think  it  over.* 

"I  didn't  say  she  was  declassSe,"  ex- 
claimed Carter.  "  I  only  said  she  would 
do  well  to  be  more  careful." 

Sargeant  shifted  his  cigar  to  the  other 
corner  of  his  mouth,  one  eye  shut  to 
avoid  the  smoke. 

"One  might  say  as  much  of  lots  of 
people,"  he  answered. 

"  I  don't  like  your  tone  I "  Carter  flared 
out. 

*  Oh,  go  to  the  devil,  Johnnie !  Shall 
we  all  have  a  drink  ?  " 

On  the  Friday  evening  of  that  week, 
Condy  set  himself  to  his  work  at  his  ac- 
customed hour.  But  he  had  had  a  hard 
day  on  the  Times  Supplement,  and  his 
brain,  like  an  overdriven  horse,  refused 
to  work.  In  half  an  hour  he  had  not 
written  a  paragraph. 

"  I  thought  it  would  be  better,  in  the 
end,  to  loaf  for  one  evening,"  he  ex- 


270  Blix 

plained  to  Blix,  some  twenty  minutes 
later,  as  they  settled  themselves  in  the 
little  dining-room.  "  I  can  go  at  it  bet- 
ter to-morrow.  See  how  you  like  this 
last  chapter." 

Blix  was  enthusiastic  over  "In  Defi- 
ance of  Authority."  Condy  had  told 
her  the  outline  of  the  story,  and  had  read 
to  her  each  chapter  as  he  finished  it. 

"It's  the  best  thing  you  have  ever 
done,  Condy,  and  you  know  it.  I  sup- 
pose it  has  faults,  but  I  don't  care  any- 
thing about  them.  It's  the  story  itself 
that's  so  interesting.  After  that  first 
chapter  of  the  boom  restaurant  and  the 
exiles'  club,  nobody  would  want  to  lay 
the  book  down.  You're  doing  the  best 
work  of  your  life  so  far,  and  you  stick 
to  it." 

"  It's  grinding  out  copy  for  the  Supple- 
ment at  the  same  time  that  takes  all  the 
starch  out  of  me.  You've  no  idea  what 
it  means  to  write  all  day,  and  then  sit 
down  and  write  all  evening." 


Blix  271 

"  I  wish  you  could  get  off  the  Times," 
said  Blix.  "  You're  just  giving  the  best 
part  of  your  life  to  hack  work,  and  now 
it's  interfering  with  your  novel.  I  know 
you  could  do  better  work  on  your  novel 
if  you  didn't  have  to  work  on  the  Times, 
couldn't  you? " 

"  Oh,  if  you  come  to  that,  of  course  I 
could,"  he  answered.  "But  they  won't 
give  me  a  vacation.  I  was  sounding  the 
editor  on  it  day  before  yesterday.  No; 
I'll  have  to  manage  somehow  to  swing 
the  two  together." 

"  Well,  let's  not  talk  shop  now,  Condy. 
You  need  a  rest.  Do  you  want  to  play 
poker?" 

They  played  for  upward  of  an  hour 
that  evening,  and  Condy,  as  usual,  lost. 
His  ill-luck  was  positively  astonishing. 
During  the  last  two  months  he  had 
played  poker  with  Blix  on  an  average  of 
three  or  four  evenings  in  the  week,  and 
at  the  close  of  every  game  it  was  Blix 
who  had  all  the  chips. 


272  Blix 

Blix  had  come  to  know  the  game  quite 
as  well,  if  not  better,  than  he.  She 
could  almost  invariably  tell  when  Condy 
held  a  good  hand,  but  on  her  part  could 
assume  an  air  of  indifference  absolutely 
inscrutable. 

"Cards?"  said  Condy,  picking  up  the 
deck  after  the  deal. 

"I'll  stand  pat,  Condy." 

"The  deuce  you  say,"  he  answered, 
with  a  stare.  "  I'll  take  three. " 

Til  pass  it  up  to  you,"  continued 
Blix  gravely. 

"Well— well,  I'll  bet  you  five  chips." 

"Raise  you  twenty." 

Condy  studied  his  hand,  laid  down  the 
cards,  picked  them  up  again,  scratched 
his  head,  and  moved  uneasily  in  his 
place.  Then  he  threw  down  two  high 
pairs. 

"No,"  he  said;  "I  won't  see  you. 
What  did  you  have?  Let's  see,  just  for 
the  fun  of  it." 

Blix  spread  her  cards  on  the  table. 


Blix  273 

"Not  a  blessed  thing!"  exclaimed 
Condy.  "I  might  have  known  it. 
There's  my  last  dollar  gone,  too.  Lend 
me  fifty  cents,  Blix." 

Blix  shook  her  head. 

"  Why,  what  a  little  niggard ! "  he  ex- 
claimed aggrievedly.  'I'll  pay  them  all 
back  to  you." 

"  Now,  why  should  I  lend  you  money 
to  play  against  me?  I'll  not  give  you  a 
chip ;  and,  besides,  I  don't  want  to  play 
any  more  Let's  stop." 

"I've  a  mind  to  stop  for  good;  stop 
playing  even  with  you." 

Blix  gav^  a  little  cry  of  joy. 

"Oh,  Condy,  will  you,  could  you?  and 
never,  never  touch  a  card  again?  never 
play  for  money?  I'd  be  s>  happy — but 
don't,  unless  you  know  you  would  keep 
your  promise.  I  would  much  rather 
have  you  play  every  night,  dowii  there 
at  your  club,  than  break  your  promise." 

Condy  fell  silent,  biting  thoughtfully 
at  the  knuckle  of  a  forefinger. 
18 


274 

"Think  twice  about  it,  Condy, "  urged 
Blix;  "because  this  would  be  for  al- 
ways." 

Condy  hesitated;  then,  abstractedly 
and  as  though  speaking  to  himself : 

"It's  different  now.  Before  we  took 
that — three  months  ago,  I  don't  say.  It 
was  harder  for  me  to  quit  then,  but  now 
— well,  everything  is  different  now;  and 
it  would  please  you,  Blixy  1  * 

"More  than  anything  else  I  can  think 
of,  Condy." 

He  gave  her  his  hand. 

"That  settles  it,"  he  said  quietly. 
*  I'll  never  gamble  again,  Blix. " 

Blix  gripped  his  hand  hard,  then 
jumped  up,  and,  with  a  quick  breath  of 
satisfaction,  gathered  up  the  cards  and 
chips  and  flung  them  into  the  fireplace. 

"Oh,  I'm  so  glad  that's  over  with," 
she  exclaimed,  her  little  eyes  dancing. 
"  I've  pretended  to  like  it,  but  I've  hated 
it  all  the  time.  You  don't  know  how 
I've  hated  it!  What  men  can  see  in  it 


Blix  275 

to  make  them  sit  up  all  night  long  is  be- 
yond me.  And  you  truly  mean,  Condy, 
that  you  never  will  gamble  again?  Yes, 
I  know  you  mean  it  this  time.  Oh,  I'm 
so  happy  I  could  sing ! " 

"Good  Heavens,  don't  do  that!*  he 
cried  quickly.  "You're  a  nice,  amiable 
girl,  Blix,  even  if  you're  not  pretty,  and 
you " 

" Oh,  bother  you !*  she  retorted;  "but 
you  promise  ?  * 

"On  my  honor.* 

"That's  enough,"  she  said  quietly. 

But  even  when  *  loafing "  as  he  was 
this  evening,  Condy  could  not  rid  himself 
of  the  thought  and  recollection  of  his 
novel ;  resting  or  writing,  it  haunted  him. 
Otherwise  he  would  not  have  been  the 
story-writer  that  he  was.  From  now  on 
until  he  should  set  down  the  last  sen- 
tence, the  "  thing  "  was  never  to  let  him 
alone,  never  to  allow  him  a  moment's 
peace.  He  could  think  of  nothing  else, 
could  talk  of  nothing  else ;  every  faculty 


276  Blix 

of  his  brain,  every  sense  of  observation 
or  imagination  incessantly  concentrated 
themselves  upon  this  one  point. 

As  they  sat  in  the  bay  window  watch- 
ing the  moon  rise,  his  mind  was  still 
busy  with  it,  and  he  suddenly  broke 
out: 

"  I  ought  to  work  some  kind  of  a  treas- 
ure into  the  yarn.  What's  a  story  of 
adventure  without  a  treasure  ?  By  Jove, 
Blix,  I  wish  I  could  giveMny  whole  time 
to  this  stuff !  It's  ripping  good  material, 
and  it  ought  to  be  handled  as  carefully 
as  glass.  Ought  to  be  worked  up,  you 
know." 

"Condy,"  said  Blix,  looking  at  him 
intently,  "what  is  it  stands  in  your  way 
of  leaving  the  Times  ?  Would  they  take 
you  back  if  you  left  them  long  enough  to 
write  your  novel?  You  could  write  it  in 
a  month,  couldn't  you,  if  you  had  noth- 
ing else  to  do  ?  Suppose  you  left  them 
for  a  month — would  they  hold  youi 
place  for  you?" 


Blix  277 

*Yes — yes,  I  think  they  would;  but 
in  the  mean  while,  Blix — there's  the 
rub.  I've  never  saved  a  cent  out  of  my 
salary.  When  I  stop,  my  pay  stops,  and 
wherewithal  would  I  be  fed?  What 
are  you  looking  for  in  that  drawer — 
matches?  Here,  I've  got  a  match." 

Blix  faced  about  at  the  sideboard, 
shutting  the  drawer  by  leaning  against 
it.  In  both  hands  she  held  one  of  the 
delf  sugar-bowls.  She  came  up  to  the  ta- 
ble, and  emptied  its  contents  upon  the 
blue  denim  table-cover — two  or  three 
gold  pieces,  some  fifteen  silver  dollars, 
and  a  handful  of  small  change. 

Disregarding  all  Condy's  inquiries,  she 
counted  it,  making  little  piles  of  the  gold 
and  silver  and  nickel  pieces. 

"Thirty-five  and  seven  is  forty-two," 
she  murmured,  counting  off  on  her  fin- 
gers, *  and  six  is  forty -eight,  and  ten  is 
fifty-eight,  and  ten  is  sixty -eight;  and 
here  is  ten,  twenty,  thirty,  fifty-five  cents 
in  change."  She  thrust  it  all  toward 


278  Blix 

him,  across  the  table.  "There,"  she 
said,  "is  your  wherewithal." 

Condy  stared.  *  My  wherewithal  1 " 
he  muttered. 

"It  ought  to  be  enough  for  over  a 
month.* 

"  Where  did  you  get  all  that?  Whose 
isit?" 

"  It's  your  money,  Condy.  You  loaned 
it  to  me,  and  now  it  has  come  in  very 
handy." 

"  I  loaned  it  to  you?  * 

*  It's  the  money  I  won  from  you  dur- 
ing the  time  you've  been  playing  poker 
with  me.  You  didn't  know  it  would 
amount  to  so  much,  did  you?  " 

"Pshaw,  I'll  not  touch  it!"  he  ex- 
claimed, drawing  back  from  the  money 
as  though  it  was  red-hot. 

"Yes,  you  will,"  she  told  him.  "I've 
been  saving  it  up  for  you,  Condy,  every 
penny  of  it,  from  the  first  day  we  played 
down  there  at  the  lake;  and  I  always 
told  myself  that  the  moment  you  maed 


Blix  279 

up  your  mind  to  quit  playing,  I  would 
give  it  back  to  you." 

"Why,  the  very  idea!"  he  vociferated, 
his  hands  deep  in  his  pockets,  his  face 
scarlet.  "It's — it's  preposterous,  Blix! 
I  won't  let  you  talk  about  it  even — I 
won't  touch  a  nickel  of  that  money. 
But,  Blix,  you're — you're — the  finest 
woman  I  ever  knew.  You're  a  man's 
woman,  that's  what  you  are."  He  set 
his  teeth.  "  If  you  loved  a  man,  you'd 
be  a  regular  pal  to  him;  you'd  back 
him  up,  you'd  stand  by  him  till  the  last 
gun  was  fired.  I  could  do  anything  if  a 
woman  like  you  cared  for  me.  Why, 

Blix,  I — you  haven't  any  idea "  He 

cleared  his  throat,  stopping  abruptly. 

"But  you  must  take  this  money,"  she 
answered;  "your  money.  If  you  didn't, 
Condy,  it  would  make  me  out  nothing 
more  nor  less  than  a  gambler.  I 
wouldn't  have  dreamed  of  playing  cards 
with  you  if  I  had  ever  intended  to  keep 
one  penny  of  your  money.  From  the 


280  Blix 

very  start  I  intended  to  keep  it  for  you, 
and  give  it  back  to  you  so  soon  as  you 
would  stop ;  and  now  you  have  a  chance 
to  put  this  money  to  a  good  use.  You 
don't  have  to  stay  on  the  Times  now. 
You  can't  do  your  novel  justice  while  you 
are  doing  your  hack  work  at  the  same 
time,  and  I  do  so  want  '  In  Defiance  of 
Authority*  to  be  a  success.  I've  faith 
in  you,  Condy.  I  know  if  you  got  the 
opportunity  you  would  make  a  success." 

"  But  you  and  I  have  played  like  two 
men  playing,"  exclaimed  Condy.  "How 
would  it  look  if  Sargeant,  say,  should 
give  me  back  the  money  he  had  won 
from  me?  What  a  cad  I  would  be  to 
take  it!" 

"  That's  just  it — we've  not  played  like 
two  men.  Then  I  would  have  been  a 
gambler.  I've  played  with  you  because 
I  thought  it  would  make  a  way  for  you 
to  break  off  with  the  habit;  and  knowing 
as  I  did  how  fond  you  were  of  playing 
cards  and  how  bad  it  was  for  you,  how 


Blix  281 

wicked  it  would  have  been  for  me  to 
have  played  with  you  in  any  other  spirit  I 
Don't  you  see?  And  as  it  has  turned 
out,  you've  given  up  playing,  and  you've 
enough  money  to  make  it  possible  for 
you  to  write  your  novel.  The  Centen- 
nial Company  have  asked  you  to  try  a 
story  of  adventure  for  them,  you've 
found  one  that  is  splendid,  you're  just 
the  man  who  could  handle  it,  and  now 
you've  got  the  money  to  make  it  possi- 
ble. Condy,"  she  exclaimed  suddenly, 
*  don't  you  see  your  chance  ?  Aren't  you 
a  big  enough  man  to  see  your  chance 
when  it  comes?  And,  besides,  do  you 
think  I  would  take  money  from  you? 
Can't  you  understand?  If  you  don't 
take  this  money  that  belongs  to  you, 
you  would  insult  me.  That  is  just  the 
way  I  would  feel  about  it.  You  must 
see  that.  If  you  care  for  me  at  all, 
you'll  take  it." 

The  editor  of  the  Sunday  Supplement 


282  Blix 

put  his   toothpick  behind   his   ear  and 
fixed  Condy  with  his  eyeglasses. 

"Well,  it's  like  this,  Bivers,"  he  said. 
"  Of  course  you  know  your  own  business 
best.  If  you  stay  on  here  with  us,  it 
will  be  all  right.  But  I  may  as  well  tell 
you  that  I  don't  believe  I  can  hold  your 
place  for  a  month.  I  can't  get  a  man  in 
here  to  do  your  work  for  just  a  month, 
and  then  fire  him  out  at  the  end  of  that 
time.  I  don't  like  to  lose  you,  but  if  you 
have  an  opportunity  to  get  in  on  another 
paper  during  this  vacation  of  yours,  you're 
at  liberty  to  do  so,  for  all  of  me." 

*  Then  you  think  my  chance  of  com- 
ing back  here  would  be  pretty  slim  if  I 
leave  for  a  month  now? " 

"That's  right." 

There  was  a  silence.  Condy  hesitated ; 
then  he  rose. 

*  I'll  take  the  chance,"  he  announced. 
To  Blix  that  evening,  as  he  told  her  of 

the  affair,  he  said : 

"It's  neck  or  nothing  now,  Blix.* 


xn 

BUT  did  Blix  care  for  him? 

In  the  retired  corner  of  his  club,  shut 
off  by  the  Japanese  screen,  or  going  up 
and  down  the  city  to  and  from  his  work, 
or  sitting  with  her  in  the  bay  window 
of  the  little  dining-room  looking  down 
upon  the  city,  blurred  in  the  twilight  or 
radiant  with  the  sunset,  Condy  asked 
himself  the  question.  A  score  of  times 
each  day  he  came  to  a  final,  definite,  neg- 
ative decision ;  and  a  score  of  times  re- 
opened the  whole  subject.  Beyond  the 
fact  that  Blix  had  enjoyed  herself  in  his 
company  during  the  last  months,  Condy 
could  find  no  sign  or  trace  of  encourage- 
ment; and  for  that  matter  he  told  him- 
self that  the  indications  pointed  rather 
in  the  other  direction.  She  had  no  com- 
punction in  leaving  him  to  go  away  to 


284  Blix 

New  York,  perhaps  never  to  return.  In 
less  than  a  month  now  all  their  compan- 
ionship was  to  end,  and  he  would  proba- 
bly see  the  last  of  her. 

He  dared  not  let  her  know  that  at  last 
he  had  really  come  to  love  her — that  it 
was  no  pretence  now;  for  he  knew  that 
with  such  declaration  their  "good  times  * 
would  end  even  before  she  should  go 
away.  But  every  day,  every  hour  that 
they  were  together  made  it  harder  for 
him  to  keep  himself  within  bounds. 

What  with  this  trouble  on  his  mind 
and  the  grim  determination  with  which 
he  held  to  his  work,  Condy  changed  rap- 
idly. Blix  had  steadied  him,  and  a  cer- 
tain earnestness  and  seriousness  of  pur- 
pose, a  certain  strength  he  had  not  known 
before,  came  swiftly  into  being. 

Was  Blix  to  go  away,  leave  him,  per- 
haps for  all  time,  and  not  know  how 
much  he  cared?  Would  he  speak  before 
she  went?  Condy  did  not  know.  It 
was  a  question  that  circumstances  would 


Blix  285 

help  him  to  decide.  He  would  not 
speak,  so  he  resolved,  unless  he  was  sure 
that  she  cared  herself ;  and  if  she  did,  she 
herself  would  give  him  a  cue,  a  hint 
whereon  to  speak.  But  days  went  by, 
the  time  set  for  Blix's  departure  drew 
nearer  and  nearer,  and  yet  she  gave  him 
not  the  slightest  sign. 

These  two  interests  had  now  absorbed 
his  entire  life  for  the  moment — his  love 
for  Blix,  and  his  novel.  Little  by  little 
*  In  Defiance  of  Authority  "  took  shape. 
The  boom  restaurant  and  the  club  of 
the  exiles  were  disposed  of,  Billy  Isham 
began  to  come  to  the  front,  the  filibuster- 
ing expedition  and  Senora  Estrada  (with 
her  torn  calling  card)  had  been  intro- 
duced, and  the  expedition  was  ready  to 
put  to  sea.  But  here  a  new  difficulty 
was  encountered. 

"  What  do  I  know  about  ships?  *  Con- 
dy  confessed  to  Blix.  "If  Billy  Isham 
is  going  to  command  a  filibustering 
schooner,  I've  got  to  know  something 


286  Blix 

about  a  schooner — appear  to,  anyhow. 
I've  got  to  know  nautical  lingo,  the  real 
thing,  you  know.  I  don't  believe  a  real 
sailor  ever  in  his  life  said  '  belay  there,' 
or  '  avast.'  We'll  have  to  go  out  and 
see  Captain  Jack;  get  some  more  techni- 
cal detail." 

This  move  was  productive  of  the  most 
delightful  results.  Captain  Jack  was  all 
on  fire  with  interest  the  moment  that 
Condy  and  Blix  told  him  of  the  idea. 

"  An'  you're  going  to  put  Billy  Ishain 
in  a  book.  Well,  strike  me  straight, 
that's  a  snorkin'  good  idea  I  I've  always 
said  that  all  Billy  needed  was  a  ticket 
seller  an'  an  advance  agent,  an'  he  was  a 
whole  show  in  himself." 

"We're  going  to  send  it  East,"  said 
Blix,  "  as  soon  as  it's  finished,  and  have 
it  published." 

"Well,  it  ought  to  make  prime  readin', 
Miss ;  an'  that's  a  good  f etchin*  title, '  In 
Defiance  of  Authority.' " 

.Regularly  Wednesday  and  Sunday  af- 


Blix  287 

ternoons,  Blix  and  Condy  came  out  to 
the  life-boat  station.  Captain  Jack  re- 
ceived them  in  sweater  and  visored  cap, 
and  ushered  them  into  the  front  room. 

"Well,  how's  the  yarn  getting  on?" 
Captain  Jack  would  ask. 

Then  Condy  would  read  the  last  chap- 
ter while  the  captain  paced  the  floor, 
frowning  heavily,  smoking  cigars,  listen- 
ing to  every  word.  Condy  told  the  story 
in  the  first  person,  as  if  Billy  Isham's 
partner  were  narrating  scenes  and  events 
in  which  he  himself  had  moved.  Condy 
called  this  protagonist  "Burke  Casso- 
wan,"  and  was  rather  proud  of  the  name. 
But  the  captain  would  none  of  it.  Cas- 
sowan,  the  protagonist,  was  simply  *  Our 
Mug." 

"Now,"  Condy  would  say,  notebook  in 
hand,  "now,  Cap.,  we've  got  down  to 
Mazatlan.  Now  I  want  to  sort  of  organ- 
ize the  expedition  in  this  next  chapter." 

"I  see,  I  see,"  Captain  Jack  would  ex- 
claim, interested  at  once.  "  Wait  a  bit 


288  Blix 

till  I  take  off  my  shoes.  I  can  think 
better  with  my  shoes  off  " ;  and  having 
removed  his  shoes,  he  would  begin  to 
pace  the  room  in  his  stocking  feet, 
puffing  fiercely  on  his  cigar  as  he  warmed 
to  the  tale,  blowing  the  smoke  out 
through  either  ear,  gesturing  savagely, 
his  face  flushed  and  his  eyes  kindling. 

"Well,  now,  lessee.  First  thing  Our 
Mug  does  when  he  gets  to  Mazatlan  is  to 
communicate  his  arrival  to  SeSora  Estra- 
da— telegraphs,  you  know;  and,  by  the 
way,  have  him  use  a  cipher." 

"What  kind  of  cipher?  * 

"  Count  three  letters  on  from  the  right 
letter,  see.  If  you  were  spelling  '  boat,' 
for  instance,  you  would  begin  with  an  et 
the  third  letter  after  b  ;  then  r  for  the  0, 
r  being  the  third  letter  from  0.  So  you'd 
spell  '  boat/  erdw ;  and  SeSora  Estrada 
knows  when  she  gets  that  dispatch  that 
she  must  count  three  letters  lack  from 
each  letter  to  get  the  right  ones.  Take 
now  such  a  cipher  word  as  ulioh.  That 


Blix  289 

means  ri/le.  Count  three  letters  back 
from  each  letter  of  ulioh,  and  it'll  spell 
rifle.  You  can  make  up  a  lot  of  dis- 
patches like  that,  just  to  have  the  thing 
look  natural ;  savvy  ?  * 

"  Out  of  sight  i "  muttered  Condy,  mak- 
ing a  note. 

"  Then  Our  Mug  and  Billy  Isham  start 
getting  a  crew.  And  Our  Mug,  he  buys 
the  sextant  there  in  Mazatlan — the  sex- 
tant, that  got  out  of  order  and  spoiled 
everything.  Or,  no;  don't  have  it  a 
sextant;  have  it  a  quadrant — an  old- 
fashioned,  ebony  quadrant.  Have  Billy 
Isham  buy  it  because  it  was  cheap." 

"How  did  it  get  out  of  order,  Captain 
Jack?"  inquired  Blix.  "That  would 
be  a  good  technical  detail,  wouldn't  it, 
Condy?" 

"Well,  it's  like  this.  Our  Mug  an' 
Billy  get  a  schooner  that's  so  bally  small, 
that  they  have  to  do  their  cooking  in  the 
cabin;  quadrant's  on  a  rack  over  the 
stove,  and  the  heat  warps  the  joints,  so 
19 


290  BHx 

when  Our  Mug  takes  his  observation  he 
gets  fifty  miles  off  his  course  and  raises 
the  land  where  the  government  forces 
are  watching  for  him." 

"And  here's  another  point,  Cap.,*  said 
Condy.  "We  ought  to  work  some  kind 
of  a  treasure  into  this  yarn;  can't  you 
think  up  something  new  and  original  in 
the  way  of  a  treasure?  I  don't  want  the 
old  game  of  a  buried  chest  of  money. 
Let's  have  him  get  track  of  something 
that's  worth  a  fortune  —  something 
novel." 

"Yes,  yes;  I  see  the  idea,"  answered 
the  Captain,  striding  over  the  floor  with 
great  thuds  of  his  stockinged  feet. 
"Now,  lessee ;  let  me  think."  He  began, 
rubbing  all  his  hair  the  wrong  way. 
"We  want  something  new  and  queer, 
something  that  ain't  ever  been  written 
up  before.  I  tell  you  what !  Here  it  is ! 
Have  Our  Mug  get  wind  of  a  little  river 
schooner  that  sunk  fifty  years  before  his 
time  in  one  of  the  big  South  American 


filix  291 

rivers,  during  a  flood — I  heard  of  this 
myself.  Schooner  went  down  and  was 
buried  twenty  feet  under  mud  and  sand ; 
and  since  that  time — you  know  how  the 
big  rivers  act — the  whole  blessed  course 
of  the  river  has  changed  at  that  point, 
and  that  schooner  is  on  dry  land,  or 
rather  twenty  feet  under  it,  and  as  sound 
as  the  day  she  chartered." 

"Well?" 

"  Well,  have  it  that  when  she  sank  she 
had  aboard  of  her  a  cargo  of  five  hundred 
cases  of  whiskey,  prime  stuff,  seven  thou- 
sand quart  bottles,  sealed  up  tight  as 
drams.  Now  Our  Mug — nor  Billy  Ish- 
am  either — they  ain't  born  yesterday. 
No,  sir;  they're  right  next  to  them- 
selves! They  figure  this  way.  This 
here  whiskey's  been  kept  fifty  years 
without  being  moved.  Now,  what  do 
you  suppose  seven  thousand  quart  bottles 
of  fifty-year-old  whiskey  would  be  worth? 
Why,  twenty  dollars  a  quart  wouldn't  be 
too  fancy.  So  there  you  are;  there's 


292  Blix 

your  treasure.  Our  Mug  and  Billy  Mi- 
am  have  only  got  to  dig  through  twen- 
ty feet  of  sand  to  pick  up  a  hundred 
thousand  dollars,  if  they  can  find  the 
schooner." 

Blix  clapped  her  hands  with  a  little 
cry  of  delight,  and  Condy  smote  a  knee, 
exclaiming : 

"By  Jove!  that's  as  good  as  Loudon 
Dodds'  opium  ship!  Why,  Cap.,  you're 
a  treasure  in  yourself  for  a  fellow  looking 
for  stories." 

Then  after  the  notes  were  taken  and 
the  story  talked  over,  Captain  Jack,  es- 
pecially if  the  day  happened  to  be  Sun- 
day, would  insist  upon  their  staying  to 
dinner — boiled  beef  and  cabbage,  smok- 
ing coffee  and  pickles — that  K.  D.  B. 
served  in  the  little,  brick-paved  kitchen 
in  the  back  of  the  station.  The  crew 
messed  in  their  quarters  overhead. 

K.  D.  B.  herself  was  not  uninteresting 
Her  respectability  encased  her  like  armor 
plate,  and  she  never  laughed  without 


Blix  293 

putting  three  fingers  to  her  lips.  She 
told  them  that  she  had  at  one  time  been 
a  "costume  reader." 

"A  costume  reader?  * 

"  Yes ;  reading  extracts  from  celebrated 
authors  in  the  appropriate  costume  of  the 
character.  It  used  to  pay  very  well, 
and  it  was  very  refined.  I  used  to  do 
1  In  a  Balcony,'  by  Mister  Browning,  and 
'  Laska,'  the  same  evening,  and  it  always 
made  a  hit.  I'd  do  '  In  a  Balcony/  first, 
and  I'd  put  on  a  Louis-Quinze-the-fif- 
teenth  gown  and  wig-to-match  over  a 
female  cowboy  outfit.  When  I'd  fin- 
ished '  In  a  Balcony,'  I'd  do  an  exit,  and 
shunt  the  gown  and  wig-to-match,  and 
come  on  as  '  Laska,'  with  thunder  noises 
off.  It  was  one  of  the  strongest  effects 
in  my  repertoire,  and  it  always  got  me  a 
curtain  call." 

And  Captain  Jack  would  wag  his  head 
and  murmur : 

"  Extraordinary !  extraordinary ! " 

Blix  and  Condy  soon  noted  that  upon 


2Q4 

the  occasion  of  each  one  of  their  visits, 
K.  D.  B.  found  means  to  entertain  them 
at  great  length  with  long  discussions 
upon  certain  subjects  of  curiously  diver- 
sified character.  Upon  their  first  visit 
she  elected  to  talk  upon  the  Alps  moun- 
tains. The  Sunday  following  it  was  bac- 
teriology ;  on  the  next  Wednesday  it  was 
crystals;  while  for  two  hours  during 
their  next  visit  to  the  station,  Condy  and 
Blix  were  obliged  to  listen  to  K.  D.  B.'s 
interminable  discourse  on  the  origin,  his- 
tory, and  development  of  the  kingdom  of 
Denmark.  Condy  was  dumbfounded. 

"  I  never  met  such  a  person,  man  01 
woman,  in  all  my  life.  Talk  about  edu- 
cation !  Why,  I  think  she  knows  every- 
thing!" 

"  In  Defiance  of  Authority  "  soon  be- 
gan to  make  good  progress,  but  Condy, 
once  launched  upon  technical  navigation, 
must  have  Captain  Jack  at  his  elbow 
continually,  to  keep  him  from  founder- 
ing In  some  sea  novel  he  remembered 


Blix  295 

to  have  come  across  the  expression  "gar- 
board  streak,"  and  from  the  context 
guessed  it  was  to  be  applied  to  a  detail 
of  a  vessel's  construction.  In  an  un- 
guarded moment  he  had  written  that  his 
schooner's  name  *  was  painted  in  showy 
gilt  letters  upon  her  garboard  streak." 

"  What's  the  garboard  streak,  Condy  ?  * 
Blix  had  asked,  when  he  had  read  the 
chapter  to  her. 

"That's  where  they  paint  her  name," 
he  declared  promptly.  "I  don't  know 
exactly,  but  I  like  the  sound  of  it* 

But  the  next  day,  when  he  was  read- 
ing this  same  chapter  to  Captain  Jack, 
the  latter  suddenly  interrupted  with  an 
exclamation  as  of  acute  physical  anguish. 

"What's  that?  Read  that  last  over 
again,"  he  demanded. 

"  '  When  they  had  come  within  a  few 
boat's  lengths,'  *  read  Condy,  "  '  they 
were  able  to  read  the  schooner's  name, 
painted  in  showy  gilt  letters  upon  hei 
garboard  streak/  * 


296  Blix 

"  My  God ! "  gasped  the  Captain,  clasp« 
ing  his  head.  Then,  with  a  shout: 
"Garboard  streak!  garboard  streak! 
Don't  you  know  that  the  garboard  streak 
is  the  last  plank  next  the  keel?  You 
mean  counter,  not  garboard  streak 
That  regularly  gravelled  me,  that  did !  * 

They  stayed  to  dinner  with  the  couple 
that  afternoon,  and  for  half  an  hour  after- 
ward K.  D.  B.  told  them  of  the  wonders 
of  the  caves  of  Elephantis.  One  would 
have  believed  that  she  had  actually  been 
at  the  place.  But  when  she  changed  the 
subject  to  the  science  of  fortification, 
Blix  could  no  longer  restrain  herself. 

"But  it  is  really  wonderful  that  you 
should  know  all  these  things!  Where 
did  you  find  time  to  study  so  much? " 

fcOne  must  have  an  education,"  re- 
turned K.  D,  B.  primly. 

But  Condy  had  caught  sight  of  a  half- 
filled  book-shelf  against  the  opposite  wall, 
and  had  been  suddenly  smitten  with  an 
inspiration.  On  a  leaf  of  his  notebook 


Blix  297 

he  wrote:  "Try  her  on  the  G's  and  H's  " 
and  found  means  to  show  it  furtively  to 
Blix.  But  Blix  was  puzzled,  and  at  the 
earliest  opportunity  Condy  himself  said 
to  the  retired  costume  reader: 

"Speaking  of  fortifications,  Mrs.  Hos- 
kins,  Gibraltar  now — that's  a  wonderful 
rock,  isn't  it?  * 

"Bock!*  she  queried.  "I  thought  it 
was  an  island." 

"Oh,  no;  it's  a  fortress.  They  have  a 
castle  there — a  castle,  something  like — 
well,  like  the  old  Schloss  at  Heidelberg. 
Did  you  ever  hear  about  or  read  about 
Heidelberg  University  ? " 

But  K,  D.  B.  was  all  abroad  now, 
Gibraltar  and  Heidelberg  were  unknown 
subjects  to  her,  as  were  also  inoculation, 
Japan,  and  Kosciusko.  Above  the  H's 
she  was  sound ;  below  that  point  her  ig- 
norance was  benighted. 

"But  what  is  it,  Condy?"  demanded 
Blix,  as  soon  as  they  were  alone. 

"I've  the  idea,"  he  answered    chuck- 


298  Blix 

ling.  "  Wait  till  after  Sunday  to  see  if 
I'm  right;  then  I'll  tell  you.  It's  a 
dollar  to  a  paper  dime,  K.  D.  B.  will 
have  something  for  us  by  Sunday,  begin- 
ning with  an  I." 

And  she  had.  It  was  Internal  Reve- 
nue. 

"Right!  right!*  Condy  shouted  glee- 
fully, as  he  and  Blix  were  on  their  way 
home.  "I  knew  it.  She's  done  with 
Ash — Bol,  Bol — Car,  and  all  those,  and 
has  worked  through  Cod — Dem,  and 
Dem — Eve.  She's  down  to  Hor — Kin 
now,  and  she'll  go  through  the  whole  lot 
before  she's  done — Kin — Mag,  Mag — 
Mot,  Mot— Pal,  and  all  the  rest.* 

"The  Encyclopaedia? ' 

"Don't  you  see  it?  No  wonder  she 
didn't  know  beans  about  Gibraltar  3  She 
hadn't  come  to  the  G's  by  then.* 

"She's  reading  the  Encyclopaedia." 

"And  she  gets  the  volumes  on  the  in- 
stalment plan,  don't  you  see?  Reads  the 
leading  articles,  and  then  springs  'em  on 


Blix  299 

us.  To  know  things  and  talk  about  'em, 
that's  her  idea  of  being  cultured.  '  One 
must  have  an  education.'  Do  you  re- 
member her  saying  that?  Oh,  our  mat- 
rimonial objects  are  panning  out  beyond 
all  expectation !  * 

What  a  delicious,  never-to-be-forgotten 
month  it  was  for  those  two!  There  in 
the  midst  of  life  they  were  as  much 
alone  as  upon  a  tropic  island.  Blix  had 
deliberately  freed  herself  from  a  world 
that  had  grown  distasteful  to  her;  Condy 
little  by  little  had  dropped  away  from  his 
place  among  the  men  and  the  women  of 
his  acquaintance,  and  the  two  came  and 
went  together,  living  in  a  little  world  of 
their  own  creation,  happy  in  each  other's 
society,  living  only  in  the  present,  and 
asking  nothing  better  than  to  be  left 
alone  and  to  their  own  devices. 

They  saw  each  other  every  day.  In 
the  morning  from  nine  till  twelve,  and  in 
the  afternoon  until  three,  Condy  worked 
away  upon  his  novel  -,  but  not  an  evening 


500  Blue 

passed  that  did  not  see  him  and  Blix  in 
the  dining-room  of  the  little  fiat.  Thurs- 
days and  Sunday  afternoons  they  visited 
the  life-boat  station,  and  at  other  times 
prowled  about  the  unfrequented  comers 
of  the  city,  now  passing  an  afternoon 
along  the  water  front,  watching  the  de- 
parture of  a  China  steamer  or  the  load- 
ing of  the  great,  steel  wheat-ships ;  now 
climbing  the  ladder-like  streets  of  Tele- 
graph Hill,  or  revisiting  the  Plaza,  China- 
town, and  the  restaurant;  or  taking  long 
walks  in  the  Presidio  Reservation,  watch- 
ing cavalry  and  artillery  drills ;  or  sitting 
for  hours  on  the  rocks  by  the  seashore, 
watching  the  ceaseless  roll  and  plunge  of 
the  surf,  the  wheeling  sea-birds,  and  the 
sleek -headed  seals  hunting  the  off-shore 
fish,  happy  for  a  half-hour  when  they 
surprised  one  with  his  prey  in  his  teeth. 
One  day,  some  three  weeks  before  the 
end  of  the  year,  toward  two  in  the  after- 
noon, Condy  sat  in  his  usual  corner  of 
the  club,  behind  the  screen,  writing  rap 


Blix  301 

idly.  His  coat  was  off  and  the  stump  of 
a  cigar  was  between  his  teeth.  At  his 
elbow  was  the  rectangular  block  of  his 
manuscript.  During  the  last  week  the 
story  had  run  from  him  with  a  facility 
that  had  surprised  and  delighted  him; 
words  came  to  him  without  effort,  rang- 
ing themselves  into  line  with  the  promp- 
titude of  well-drilled  soldiery;  sentences 
and  paragraphs  marched  down  the  clean- 
swept  spaces  of  his  paper,  like  companies 
and  platoons  defiling  upon  review;  his 
chapters  were  brigades  that  he  mar- 
shalled at  will,  falling  them  in  one  be- 
hind the  other,  each  preceded  by  its 
chapter-head,  like  an  officer  in  the  space 
between  two  divisions.  In  the  guise  of 
a  Commander-in-chief  sitting  his  horse 
upon  aa  eminence  that  overlooked  the 
field  of  operations,  Condy  at  last  took  in 
the  entire  situation  at  a  glance,  and,  with 
the  force  and  precision  of  a  machine; 
marched  his  forces  straight  to  the  goal  he 
had  set  for  himself  so  long  a  time  before 


302  Blix 

Then  at  length  he  took  a  fresh  penful 
of  ink,  squared  his  elbows,  drew  closer  to 
the  desk,  and  with  a  single  swift  spurt  of 
the  pen  wrote  the  last  line  of  his  novel, 
dropping  the  pen  upon  the  instant  and 
pressing  the  blotter  over  the  words  as 
though  setting  a  seal  of  approval  upon 
the  completed  task. 

"There!"  he  muttered,  between  his 
teeth ;  "  I've  done  for  you  /  * 

That  same  afternoon  he  read  the  last 
chapter  to  Blix,  and  she  helped  him  to 
prepare  the  manuscript  for  expressage. 
She  insisted  that  it  should  go  off  that 
very  day,  and  herself  wrote  the  directions 
upon  the  outside  wrapper.  Then  the  two 
went  down  together  to  the  Wells  Fargo 
office,  and  "  In  Defiance  of  Authority  " 
was  sent  on  its  journsy  across  the  conti- 
nent. 

"  Now,"  she  said,  as  they  came  out  of 
the  express  office  and  stood  for  a  moment 
upon  the  steps,  "now  there's  nothing  to 
do  but  wait  for  the  Centennial  Company, 


Blix  303 

I  do  so  hope  we'll  get  their  answer  be- 
fore I  go  away.  They  ought  to  take  it 
It's  just  what  they  asked  for.  Don't 
you  think  they'll  take  it,  Condy?  " 

"Oh,  bother  that!"  answered  Gondy. 
"  I  don't  care  whether  they  take  it  or  not. 
How  long  now  is  it  betore  you  go, 
Blix?' 


xm 

A  WEEK  passed;  then  another.  The 
year  was  coming  to  a  close.  In  ten  days 
Blix  would  be  gone.  Letters  had  been 
received  from  Aunt  Kihm,  and  also  an 
exquisite  black  leather  travelling-case, 
a  present  to  her  niece,  full  of  cut-glass 
bottles,  ebony-backed  brushes,  and  shell 
combs,  Blix  was  to  leave  on  the  second 
day  of  January.  In  the  mean  while  she 
had  been  reading  far  into  her  first-year 
text-books,  underscoring  and  annotating, 
studying  for  hours  upon  such  subjects  as 
she  did  not  understand,  so  that  she  might 
get  hold  of  her  work  the  readier  when 
it  came  to  class-room  routine  and  lect- 
ures. Hers  was  a  temperament  admirably 
suited  to  the  study  she  had  chosen — self* 
reliant,  cool,  and  robust. 

But  it  was  not  easy  for  her  to  go. 


Blix  305 

Never  before  had  Blix  been  away  from 
her  home ;  never  for  longer  than  a  week 
had  she  been  separated  from  her  father, 
nor  from  Howard  and  Snooky.  That 
huge  city  upon  the  Atlantic  seaboard, 
with  its  vast,  fierce  life,  where  beat 
the  heart  of  the  nation,  and  where  be- 
yond Aunt  Kihm  she  knew  no  friend, 
filled  Blix  with  a  vague  sense  of  terror 
and  of  oppression.  She  was  going  out 
into  a  new  life,  a  life  of  work  and  of 
study,  a  harsher  life  than  she  had  yet 
known.  Her  father,  her  friends,  her 
home — all  these  were  to  be  left  behind. 
It  was  not  surprising  that  Blix  should  be 
daunted  at  the  prospect  of  so  great  a 
change  in  her  life,  now  so  close  at  hand. 
But  if  the  tears  did  start  at  times, 
no  one  ever  saw  them  fall,  and  with 
a  courage  that  was  all  her  own  Blix 
watched  the  last  days  of  the  year  troop- 
ing past,  and  the  approach  of  the  New 
Year  that  was  to  begin  the  new  life. 

But  Condy  was  thoroughly  unhappy 
20 


306  Blix 

Those  wonderful  three  months  were  at  an 
end.  Blix  was  going.  In  less  than  a 
week  now  she  would  begone.  He  would 
see  the  last  of  her.  Then  what?  He 
pictured  himself  —  when  he  had  said 
good-by  to  her  and  the  train  had  less- 
ened to  a  smoky  blur  in  the  distance — 
facing  about,  facing  the  life  that  must 
then  begin  for  him,  returning  to  the  city 
alone,  picking  up  the  routine  again. 
There  would  be  nothing  to  look  forward 
to  then;  he  would  not  see  Blix  in  the 
afternoon ;  would  not  sit  with  her  in  the 
evening  in  the  little  dining-room  of  the 
flat  overlooking  the  city  and  the  bay; 
would  not  wake  in  the  morning  with  the 
consciousness  that  before  the  sun  would 
set  he  would  see  her  again,  be  with  her, 
and  hear  the  sound  of  her  voice.  The 
months  that  were  to  follow  would  be  one 
long  ache,  one  long,  harsh,  colorless  grind 
without  her.  How  was  he  to  get  through 
that  first  evening  that  he  must  pass 
alone?  And  she  did  not  care  for  him. 


Blix  307 

Condy  at  last  knew  this  to  be  so.  Even 
the  poor  solace  of  knowing  that  she,  too, 
was  unhappy  was  denied  him.  She  had 
never  loved  him,  and  never  would.  He 
was  a  chum  to  her,  nothing  more.  Con- 
dy was  too  clear-headed  to  deceive  him- 
self upon  this  point.  The  time  was 
come  for  her  to  go  away,  and  she  had 
given  him  no  sign,  no  cue. 

The  last  days  passed ;  Blix's  trunk  was 
packed,  her  half  section  engaged,  her 
ticket  bought.  They  said  good-by  to 
the  old  places  they  had  come  to  know  so 
well — Chinatown,  the  Golden  Balcony, 
the  water-front,  the  lake  of  San  Andreas, 
Telegraph  Hill,  and  Luna's  —  and  had 
bade  farewell  to  Ricardo  and  to  old  Rich- 
ardson. They  had  left  K.  D.  B.  and 
Captain  Jack  until  the  last  day.  Blix 
was  to  go  on  the  second  of  January.  On 
New  Year's  Day  she  and  Condy  were  to 
take  their  last  walk,  were  to  go  out  to  th« 
life-boat  station,  and  then  on  around  the 
shore  to  the  little  amphitheatre  of  black- 


308  Blix 

berry  bushes — where  they  had  promised 
always  to  write  one  another  on  the  anni- 
versary of  their  first  visit— and  then  for 
the  last  time  climb  the  hill,  and  go  across 
the  breezy  downs  to  the  city. 

Then  came  the  last  day  of  the  old 
year,  the  last  day  but  one  that  they  would 
be  together.  They  spent  it  in  a  long 
ramble  along  the  water-front,  following 
the  line  of  the  shipping  even  as  far  as 
Meigg's  Wharf.  They  had  come  back  to 
the  flat  for  supper,  and  afterward,  as  soon 
as  the  family  had  left  them  alone,  had 
settled  themselves  in  the  bay  window  to 
watch  the  Kew  Year  in. 

The  little  dining-room  was  dark,  but 
for  the  indistinct  blur  of  light  that  came 
in  through  the  window — a  light  that  was 
a  mingling  of  the  after-glow,  the  new- 
risen  moon,  and  the  faint  haze  that  the 
city  threw  off  into  the  sky  from  its 
street  lamps  and  electrics.  From  where 
they  sat  they  could  look  down,  almost 
as  from  a  tower,  into  the  city's  streets. 


Blix  309 

Here  a  corner  came  into  view ;  further  on 
a  great  puff  of  green  foliage — palms  and 
pines  side  by  side — overlooked  a  wall. 
Here  a  street  was  visible  for  almost  its 
entire  length,  like  a  stream  of  asphalt 
flowing  down  the  pitch  of  the  hill, 
dammed  on  either  side  by  rows  upon 
rows  of  houses;  while  further  on  the 
vague  confusion  of  roofs  and  facades 
opened  out  around  a  patch  of  green  lawn, 
the  garden  of  some  larger  residence. 

As  they  looked  and  watched,  the  after- 
glow caught  window  after  window,  till 
all  that  quarter  of  the  city  seemed  to 
stare  up  at  them  from  a  thousand  ruddy 
eyes.  The  windows  seemed  infinite  in 
number,  the  streets  endless  in  their  com- 
plications j  yet  everything  was  deserted. 
At  this  hour  the  streets  were  empty,  and 
would  remain  so  until  daylight.  Not  a 
soul  was  stirring;  no  face  looked  from 
any  of  those  myriads  of  glowing  win-' 
dows;  no  footfall  disturbed  the  silence 
of  those  asphalt  streets.  There,  almost 


3 1  o  Blix 

within  call  behind  those  windows,  shut 
off  from  those  empty  streets,  a  thousand 
human  lives  were  teeming,  each  the  cen- 
tre of  its  own  circle  of  thoughts  and 
words  and  actions ;  and  yet  the  solitude 
was  profound,  the  desolation  complete, 
the  stillness  unbroken  by  a  single  echo. 

The  night — the  last  night  of  the  old 
year — was  fine;  the  white,  clear  light 
from  ft  moon  they  could  not  see  grew 
wide  and  clear  over  the  city,  as  the  last 
gleam  of  the  sunset  faded.  It  was  just 
warm  enough  for  the  window  to  be  open, 
and  for  nearly  three  hours  Condy  and 
Blix  sat  looking  down  upon  the  city  in 
these  last  moments  of  the  passing  year, 
feeling  upon  their  faces  an  occasional 
touch  of  the  breeze,  that  carried  with  it 
the  smell  of  trees  and  flowers  from  the 
gardens  below  them,  and  the  faint,  fine 
taint  of  the  ocean  from  far  out  beyond 
the  Heads.  But  the  scene  was  not  in 
reality  silent.  At  times  when  they 
listened  intently,  especially  when  they 


Blix  311 

closed  their  eyes,  there  came  to  them  a 
subdued,  steady  bourdon,  profound,  un- 
ceasing, a  vast,  numb  murmur,  like  no 
other  sound  in  all  the  gamut  of  nature — . 
the  sound  of  a  city  at  night,  the  hum  of 
a  great,  conglomerate  life,  wrought  out 
there  from  moment  to  moment  under  the 
stars  and  under  the  moon,  while  the  last 
hours  of  the  old  year  dropped  quietly 
away, 

A  star  fell. 

Sitting  in  the  window,  the  two  noticed 
it  at  once,  and  Condy  stirred  for  the  first 
time  in  fifteen  minutes. 

"That  was  a  very  long  one,"  he  §aid, 
in  a  low  voice.  "  Blix,  you  must  writ* 
to  me  —  we  must  write  each  other 
often." 

"Oh,  yes,"  she  answered.  "We  must 
not  forget  each  other ;  we  have  had  too 
good  a  time  for  that." 

Tour  years  is  a  long  time,"  he  went' 
on.      "Lots  can  happen    in  four  years. 
Wonder  what  I'll  be  doing  at  the  end  of 


312  Blix 

four  years?  We've  had  a  pleasant  time 
while  it  lasted,  Blix.* 

"Haven't  we?"  she  said,  her  chin  on 
her  hand,  the  moonlight  shining  in  her 
little,  dark-brown  eyes. 

Well,  he  was  going  to  lose  her.  Ee 
had  found  out  that  he  loved  her  only  in 
time  to  feel  the  wrench  of  parting  from 
her  all  the  more  keenly.  What  was  ha 
to  do  with  himself  after  she  was  gone  ? 
What  could  he  turn  to  in  order  to  fill  up 
the  great  emptiness  that  her  going  would 
leave  in  his  daily  life?  And  was  she 
never  to  know  how  dear  she  was  to  him  ? 
Why  not  speak  to  her,  why  not  tell  her 
that  he  loved  her?  But  Condy  knew 
that  Blix  did  not  love  him,  and  the 
knowledge  of  that  must  keep  him  silent; 
he  must  hug  his  secret  to  him,  like  the 
Spartan  boy  with  his  stolen  fox,  no  mat- 
ter how  grievously  it  hurt  him  to  do  so. 
He  and  Blix  '  had  lived  through  two 
months  of  rarest,  most  untroubled  happi- 
ness, with  hardly  more  self-consciousness 


Blix  3 1 3 

than  two  young  and  healthy  boys.  To 
bring  that  troublous,  disquieting  element 
of  love  between  them — unrequited  love, 
of  all  things — would  be  a  folly.  She 
would  tell  him — must  in  all  honesty  tell 
him  that  she  did  not  love  him,  and  all 
their  delicious  camaraderie  would  end  in 
a  "scene."  Condy,  above  everything, 
•wished  to  look  back  on  those  two  months, 
after  she  had  gone,  without  being  able  to 
remember  therein  one  single  note  that 
jarred.  If  the  memory  of  her  was  all 
that  he  was  to  have,  he  resolved  that  at 
least  that  memory  should  be  perfect. 

And  the  love  of  her  had  made  a  man 
of  him — he  could  not  forget  that;  had 
given  to  him  just  the  strength  that  made 
it  possible  for  him  to  keep  that  resolute, 
grim  silence  now.  In  those  two  months 
he  had  grown  five  years;  he  was  more 
masculine,  more  virile.  The  very  set  of 
his  mouth  was  different;  between  the 
eyebrows  the  cleft  had  deepened;  his 
voice  itself  vibrated  to  a  heavier  note. 


314  Blix 

No,  no;  so  long  as  he  should  live,  he, 
man  grown  as  he  was,  could  never  forget 
this  girl  of  nineteen  who  had  come  into 
his  life  so  quietly,  so  unexpectedly,  who 
had  influenced  it  so  irresistibly  and  so 
unmistakably  for  its  betterment,  and  who 
had  passed  out  of  it  with  the  passing  of 
the  year. 

For  a  few  moments  Condy  had  been 
absent-mindedly  snapping  the  lid  of  his 
cigarette  case,  while  he  thought:  now  he 
selected  a  cigarette,  returned  the  case  to 
his  pocket,  and  fumbled  for  a  match. 
But  the  little  gun-metal  safe  he  carried 
was  empty.  Blix  rose  and  groped  for  a 
moment  upon  the  mantel-shelf,  then 
returned  and  handed  him  a  match,  and 
stood  over  him  while  he  scraped  it  under 
the  arm  of  the  chair  wherein  he  sat. 
Even  when  his  cigarette  was  lit  she  still 
stood  there,  looking  at  him,  the  fingers 
of  her  hands  clasped  in  front  of  her,  her 
hair,  one  side  of  her  cheek,  her  chin,  and 
sweet,  round  neck  outlined  by  the  faint 


Blix  315 

blur  of  light  that  came  from  the  open 
window.  Then  quietly  she  said: 

"Well,  Condy?' 

"Well,  Blix?" 

"  Just '  well '  ?  *  she  repeated.  *  Is  that 
all?  Is  that  all  you  have  to  say  to  me?  * 

He  gave  a  great  start. 

"  Blix !  "  he  exclaimed. 

"Is  that  all?  And  you  are  going  to 
let  me  go  away  from  you  for  so  long,  and 
say  nothing  more  than  that  to  me?  You 
think  you  have  been  so  careful,  think 
you  have  kept  your  secret  so  close! 
Condy,  don't  you  suppose  I  know?  Do 
you  suppose  women  are  so  blind?  No, 
you  don't  need  to  tell  me;  I  know 
I've  known  it — oh,  for  weeks !  * 

"You  know — know — know  what? "  he 
exclaimed,  breathless. 

"That  you  have  been  pretending  that 
you  did  not  love  me.  I  know  that  you 
do  love  me — I  know  you  have  been  try- 
ing to  keep  it  from  me  for  fear  it  would 
spoil  our  good  times,  and  because  we  had 


316  Blix 

made  up  our  minds  to  be  chums,  and 
have  '  no  more  foolishness.'  Once —  in 
those  days  when  we  first  knew  each  other 
— I  knew  you  did  not  love  me  when  you 
said  you  did;  but  now,  since — oh,  since 
that  afternoon  in  the  Chinese  restaurant, 
remember? — I've  known  that  you  did 
love  me,  although  you  pretended  you 
didn't.  It  was  the  pretence  I  wanted  to 
be  rid  of;  I  wanted  to  be  rid  of  it  when 
you  said  you  loved  me  and  didn't,  and  I 
want  to  be  rid  of  it  now  when  you  pre- 
tend not  to  love  me  and  I  "know  you  do," 
and  Blix  leaned  back  her  head  as  she 
spoke  that  "know,"  looking  at  him  from 
under  her  lids,  a  smile  upon  her  lips. 
"It's  the  pretence  that  I  won't  have," 
she  added.  "  We  must  be  sincere  with 
each  other,  you  and  I." 

"  Blix,  do  you  love  me  ?  " 

Condy  had  risen  to  his  feet,  his  breath 
was  coming  quick,  his  cigarette  was  flung 
away,  and  his  hands  opened  and  shu* 
swiftly. 


Blix  317 

"Oh,  Blixy,  little  girl,  do  you  love 
me?9 

They  stood  there  for  a  moment  in  the 
half  dark,  facing  one  another,  their  hearts 
beating,  their  breath  failing  them  in  the 
tension  of  the  instant.  There  in  that 
room,  high  above  the  city,  a  little  climax 
had  come  swiftly  to  a  head,  a  crisis  in  two 
lives  had  suddenly  developed.  The  mo- 
ment that  had  been  in  preparation  for  the 
last  few  months,  the  last  few  years,  the 
last  few  centuries,  behold !  it  had  arrived. 

"Blix,  do  you  love  me?  * 

Suddenly  it  was  the  New  Year.  Some- 
where close  at  hand  a  chorus  of  chiming 
church  bells  sang  together.  Far  off  in 
the  direction  of  the  wharves,  where  the 
great  ocean  steamships  lay,  came  the 
glad,  sonorous  shouting  of  a  whistle; 
from  a  nearby  street  a  bugle  called  aloud. 
And  then  from  point  to  point,  from 
street  to  roof  top,  and  from  roof  to  spire, 
the  vague  murmur  of  many  sounds  grew 
and  spread  and  widened,  slowly,  grandly ; 


3i  8  Blix 

that  profound  and  steady  bourdon,  as  of 
an  invisible  organ  swelling,  deepening, 
and  expanding  to  the  full  male  diapason 
of  the  city  aroused  and  signalling  the  ad- 
vent of  another  year. 

And  they  heard  it,  they  two  heard  it, 
standing  there  face  to  face,  looking  into 
each  other's  eyes,  that  unanswered  ques- 
tion yet  between  them,  the  question  that 
had  come  to  them  with  the  turning  of 
the  year.  It  was  the  old  year  yet  when 
Condy  had  asked  that  question.  In  that 
moment's  pause,  while  Blix  hesitated  to 
answer  him,  the  New  Year  had  come. 
And  while  the  huge,  vast  note  of  the  city 
swelled  and  vibrated,  she  still  kept  si- 
lent. But  only  for  a  moment.  Then 
she  came  closer  to  him,  and  put  a  hand 
on  each  of  his  shoulders. 

"Happy  New  Year,  dear,"  she  said. 

On  New  Year's  Day,  the  last  day  they 
were  to  be  together,  Blix  and  Condy  took 
"  their  walk,"  as  they  had  come  to  call  it 


Blix  319 

— the  walk  that  included  the  life-boat 
station,  the  Golden  Gate,  the  ocean  beach 
beyond  the  old  fort,  the  green,  bare, 
flower-starred  hills  and  downs,  and  the 
smooth  levels  of  the  golf  links.  Blix 
had  been  busy  with  the  last  details  of  her 
packing,  and  they  did  not  get  started  un- 
til toward  two  in  the  afternoon. 

"  Strike  me ! "  exclaimed  Captain  Jack, 
as  Blix  informed  him  that  she  had  come 
to  say  good-by.  "  Why,  ain't  this  very 
sudden -like,  Miss  Bessemer?  Hey,  Kit- 
ty, come  in  here.  Here's  Miss  Bessemer 
come  to  say  good-by;  going  to  New 
York  to-morrow." 

"  We'll  regularly  be  lonesome  without 
you,  miss,"  said  K.  D.  B.,  as  she  came 
into  the  front  room,  bringing  with  her  a 
brisk,  pungent  odor  of  boiled  vegetables. 
*  New  York — such  a  town  as  it  must  be ! 
It  was  called  Manhattan  at  first,  you 
know,  and  was  settled  by  the  Dutch." 

Evidently  K.  D.  B.  had  reached  the  IPs. 

With  such  deftness  as  she  possessed, 


320  Blix 

Blix  tried  to  turn  the  conversation  upon 
the  first  meeting  of  the  retired  sea  cap- 
tain and  the  one-time  costume  reader, 
but  all  to  no  purpose.  The  "  Matrimo- 
nial Objects"  were  perhaps  a  little 
ashamed  of  their  "personals*  bj  now,  and 
neither  Blix  nor  Condy  were  ever  to  hear 
their  version  of  the  meeting  in  the  back 
dining-room  of  Luna's  Mexican  restau- 
rant. Captain  Jack  was,  in  fact,  anx- 
ious to  change  the  subject. 

"Any  news  of  the  yarn  yet? "  he  sud- 
denly inquired  of  Condy.  "What  do 
those  Eastern  publishin'  people  think  of 
Our  Mug  and  Billy  Isham  and  the  whis- 
key schooner?" 

Condy  had  received  the  rejected  man- 
uscript of  "In  Defiance  of  Authority" 
that  morning,  accompanied  by  a  letter 
from  the  Centennial  Company. 

"Well,"  he  said  in  answer,  "they're 
not,  as  you  might  say,  falling  over  them- 
selves trying  to  see  who'll  be  the  first  to 
print  it.  It's  been  returned." 


81?  x  321 

"The  devil  you  say!"  responded  the 
Captain.  "Well,  that's  kind  of  disap- 
pointin'  to  you,  ain't  it?  * 

"But,"  Blix  hastened  to  add,  "we're 
not  at  all  discouraged.  We're  going  to 
send  it  off  again  right  away." 

Then  she  said  good-by  to  them. 

"  I  dunno  as  you'll  see  me  here  when 
you  come  back,  miss,"  said  the  Captain, 
at  the  gate,  his  arm  around  K.  D.  B. 
"I've  got  to  schemin*  again.  Do  you 
know,*  he  added,  in  a  low,  confidential 
tone,  "that  all  the  mines  in  California 
send  their  clean-ups  and  gold  bricks  down 
to  the  Selby  smeltin'  works  once  every 
week?  They  send  'em  to  San  Francisco 
first,  and  they  are  taken  up  to  Selby's 
Wednesday  afternoons  on  a  little  stern- 
wheel  steamer  called  the  Monticello.  All 
them  bricks  are  in  a  box — dumped  in 
like  so  much  coal — and  that  box  sets  just 
under  the  wheel-house,  for'ard.  How 
much  money  do  you  suppose  them  bricks 
represent?  Well,  I'll  tell  you;  last  week 


322  Blix 

they  represented  seven  hundred  and 
eighty  thousand  dollars.  Well,  now,  1 
got  a  chart  of  the  bay  near  Vallejo;  the 
channel's  all  right,  but  there  are  mud- 
flats that  run  out  from  shore  three  miles. 
Enough  water  for  a  Whitehall,  but  not 
enough  for — well,  for  the  patrol  boat,  for 
instance.  Two  or  three  slick  boys,  of  a 
foggy  night — of  course,  I'm  not  in  that 
kind  of  game,  but  strike !  it  would  be  a 
deal  now,  wouldn't  it? ' 

"Don't  you  believe  him,  miss,"  put  in 
K.  D.  B.  *  He's  just  talking  to  show  off. " 

"  I  think  your  scheme  of  holding  up  a 
Cunard  liner,"  said  Condy,  with  great 
earnestness,  "is  more  feasible.  You 
could  lay  across  her  course  and  fly  a  dis- 
tress signal.  She'd  have  to  heave  to." 

"Yes,  I  been  thinkin'  o'  that;  but 
look  here — what's  to  prevent  the  liner 
taking  right  after  your  schooner  after 
you've  got  the  stuff  aboard — just  follow- 
in*  you  right  around  an'  findin*  out  where 
you  land?" 


Blix  323 

*  She'd  be  under  contract  to  carry  gov- 
ernment mails,"  contradicted  Condy. 
"  She  couldn't  do  that.  You'd  leave  her 
mails  aboard  for  just  that  reason.  You 
wouldn't  rob  her  of  her  mails;  just  so 
long  as  she  was  carrying  government 
mails  she  couldn't  stop." 

The  Captain  clapped  his  palm  down 
upon  the  gate-post. 

"Strike  me  straight!  I  never  thought 
of  that." 


XIV 

BLIX  and  Condy  went  on ;  on  along 
the  narrow  road  upon  the  edge  of  the 
salt  marshes  and  tules  that  lay  between 
the  station  and  the  Golden  Gate;  on  to 
the  Golden  Gate  itself,  and  around  the 
old  rime-encrusted  fort  to  the  ocean 
shore,  with  its  reaches  of  hard,  white 
sand,  where  the  boulders  lay  tumbled 
and  the  surf  grumbled  incessantly. 

The  world  seemed  very  far  away  from 
them  there  on  the  shores  of  the  Pacific, 
on  that  first  afternoon  of  the  New  Year. 
They  were  supremely  happy,  and  they 
sufficed  to  themselves.  Condy  had  for- 
gotten all  about  the  next  day,  when  he 
must  say  good-by  to  Blix.  It  did  not 
seem  possible,  it  was  not  within  the 
bounds  of  possibility,  that  she  was  to  go 
away — that  they  two  were  to  be  sepa- 


Blix  325 

rated.  And  for  that  matter,  to-morrow 
was  to-morrow.  It  was  twenty-four 
hours  away.  The  present  moment  was 
sufficient. 

The  persistence  with  which  they  clung 
to  the  immediate  moment,  their  happi- 
ness in  living  only  in  the  present,  had 
brought  about  a  rather  curious  condition 
of  things  between  them. 

In  their  love  for  each  other  there  was 
no  thought  of  marriage;  they  were  too 
much  occupied  with  the  joy  of  being  to- 
gether at  that  particular  instant  to  think 
of  the  future.  They  loved  each  other, 
and  that  was  enough.  They  did  not  look 
ahead  further  than  the  following  day,  and 
then  but  furtively,  and  only  in  order  that 
their  morrow's  parting  might  intensify 
their  happiness  of  to-day.  That  New 
Year's  Day  was  to  be  the  end  of  every- 
thing. Blix  was  going;  she  and  Condy 
would  never  see  each  other  again.  The 
thought  of  marriage — with  its  certain  re- 
sponsibilities, its  duties,  its  gravity,  its 


326  Blix 

vague,  troublous  seriousness,  its  inevita- 
ble disappointments — was  even  a  little 
distasteful  to  them.  Their  romance  had 
been  hitherto  without  a  flaw ;  they  had 
been  genuinely  happy  in  little  things. 
It  was  as  well  that  it  should  end  that 
day,  in  all  its  pristine  sweetness,  unsul- 
lied by  a  single  bitter  moment,  un- 
dimmed  by  the  cloud  of  a  single  disil- 
lusion or  disappointment.  Whatever 
chanced  to  them  in  later  years,  they 
could  at  least  cherish  this  one  memory 
of  a  pure,  unselfish  affection,  young  and 
unstained  and  almost  without  thought  of 
sex,  come  and  gone  on  the  very  thresh- 
old of  their  lives.  This  was  the  end, 
they  both  understood.  They  were  glad 
that  it  was  to  be  so.  They  did  not  even 
speak  again  of  writing  to  each  other. 

They  found  once  more  the  little  semi- 
circle of  blackberry  bushes  and  the  fallen 
log,  half-way  up  the  hill  above  the  shore, 
and  sat  there  a  while,  looking  down  upon 
the  long  green  rollers,  marching  inees- 


Blix  327 

santly  toward  the  beach,  and  there  break- 
ing in  a  prolonged  explosion  of  solid 
green  water  and  flying  spume.  And 
their  glance  followed  their  succeeding 
ranks  farther  and  farther  out  to  sea,  till 
the  multitude  blended  into  the  mass — 
the  vast,  green,  shifting  mass  that  drew 
the  eye  on  and  on,  to  the  abrupt,  fine 
line  of  the  horizon. 

There  was  no  detail  in  the  scene. 
There  was  nothing  but  the  great  reach  of 
the  ocean  floor,  the  unbroken  plane  of 
blue  sky,  and  the  bare  green  slope  of 
land — three  immensities,  gigantic,  vast, 
primordial.  It  was  no  place  for  trivial  \ 
ideas  and  thoughts  of  little  things.  The 
mind  harked  back  unconsciously  to  the 
broad,  simpler,  basic  emotions,  the  fun- 
damental instincts  of  the  race.  The 
huge  spaces  of  earth  and  air  and  water 
carried  with  them  a  feeling  of  kindly  but 
enormous  force — elemental  force,  fresh, 
untutored,  new,  and  young.  There  was 
buoyancy  in  it ;  a  fine,  breathless  sense  of 


328  Blix 

uplifting  and  exhilaration ;  a  sensation  as 
of  bigness  and  a  return  to  the  homely, 
human,  natural  life,  to  the  primitive  old 
impulses,  irresistible,  changeless,  and  un- 
hampered ;  old  as  the  ocean,  stable  as  the 
hills,  vast  as  the  unplumbed  depths  of  the 
sky. 

Condy  and  Blix  sat  still,  listening, 
looking,  and  watching  —  the  intellect 
drowsy  and  numb;  the  emotions,  the 
senses,  all  alive  and  brimming  to  the 
surface.  Vaguely  they  felt  the  influence 
of  the  moment.  Something  was  prepar- 
ing for  them.  From  the  lowest,  un- 
touched depths  in  the  hearts  of  each  of 
them  something  was  rising  steadily  to 
consciousness  and  the  light  of  day. 
There  is  no  name  for  such  things,  no 
name  for  the  mystery  that  spans  the 
interval  between  man  and  woman — the 
mystery  that  bears  no  relation  to  their 
love  for  each  other,  but  that  is  some- 
thing better  than  love,  and  whose  coming 
savors  of  the  miraculous. 


Blix  329 

The  afternoon  had  waned  and  the  sun 
had  begun  to  set  when  Blix  rose. 

"We  should  be  going,  Condy,"  she 
told  him. 

They  started  up  the  hill,  and  Condy 
said :  "  I  feel  as  though  I  had  been  some- 
how asleep  with  my  eyes  wide  open. 
What  a  glorious  sunset !  It  seems  to  me 
as  though  I  were  living  double  every 
minute ;  and,  oh !  Blix,  isn't  it  the  great- 
est thing  in  the  world  to  love  each  other 
as  we  do  ?  " 

They  had  come  to  the  top  of  the  hill 
by  now,  and  went  on  across  the  open, 
breezy  downs,  all  starred  with  blue  iris 
and  wild  heliotrope.  Blix  drew  his  arm 
about  her  waist,  and  laid  her  cheek  upon 
his  shoulder  with  a  little  caressing  motion. 

"And  I  do  love  you,  dear,"  she  said, 
— "love  you  with  all  my  heart.  And  it's 
for  always,  too ;  I  know  that.  I've  been 
a  girl  until  within  the  last  three  or  four 
days-— just  a  girl,  dearest;  not  very  se- 
rious, I'm  afraid,  and  not  caring  for  any« 


33° 

thing  else  beyond  what  was  happening 
close  around  me — don't  you  understand  ? 
But  since  I've  found  out  how  much  1 
loved  you  and  knew  that  you  loved  me 
— why,  everything  is  changed  for  me. 
I'm  not  the  same,  I  enjoy  things  that  I 
never  thought  of  enjoying  before,  and  I 
feel  so — oh,  larger,  don't  you  know? — 
and  stronger,  and  so  much  more  serious. 
Just  a  little  while  ago  I  was  only  nine- 
teen, but  I  think,  dear,  that  by  loving 
you  I  have  become — all  of  a  sudden  and 
without  knowing  it — a  woman." 

A  little  trembling  ran  through  her 
with  the  words.  She  stopped  and  put 
both  arms  around  his  neck,  her  head 
tipped  back,  her  eyes  half  closed,  her 
sweet  yellow  hair  rolling  from  her  fore- 
head. Her  whole  dear  being  radiated 
with  that  sweet,  clean  perfume  that 
seemed  to  come  alike  from  her  clothes, 
her  neck,  her  arms,  her  hair,  and  mouth 
— the  delicious,  almost  divine,  feminine 
arouia  that  was  part  of  herself. 


Blix  331 

"You  do  love  me,  Condy,  don't  you 
just  as  I  love  you?  " 

Such  words  as  lie  could  think  of 
seemed  pitifully  inadequate.  For  an- 
swer he  could  only  hold  her  the  closer. 
She  understood.  Her  eyes  closed  slowly, 
and  her  face  drew  nearer  to  his.  Just 
above  a  whisper,  she  said : 

" I  love  you,  dear! " 

"I  love  you,  Blix!" 

And  they  kissed  each  other  then  upon 
the  mouth. 

Meanwhile  the  sun  had  been  setting. 
Such  a  sunset!  The  whole  world,  the 
three  great  spaces  of  sea  and  land  and 
sky,  were  incarnadined  with  the  glory  of 
it.  The  ocean  floor  was  a  blinding  red 
radiance,  the  hills  were  amethyst,  the  sky 
one  gigantic  opal,  and  they  two  seemed 
poised  in  the  midst  of  all  the  chaotic 
glory  of  a  primitive  world.  It  was  New 
Year's  Day;  the  earth  was  new,  the  year  I , 
was  new,  and  their  love  was  new  and 
strong.  Everything  was  before  them. 


—-B 


332  Blix 

There  was  no  longer  any  past,  no  longei 
any  present.  Regrets  and  memories  had 
no  place  in  their  new  world.  It  was 
Hope,  Hope,  Hope,  that  sang  to  them 
and  called  to  them  and  smote  into  life 
the  new  keen  blood  of  them. 

Then  suddenly  came  the  miracle,  like 
the  flashing  out  of  a  new  star,  whose  ra- 
diance they  felt  but  could  not  see,  like  a 
burst  of  music  whose  harmony  they  felt 
but  could  not  hear.  And  as  they  stood 
there  alone  in  all  that  simple  glory  of 
sky  and  earth  and  sea,  they  knew  all  in 
an  instant  that  they  were  for  each  other, 
forever  and  forever,  for  better  or  for 
worse,  till  death  should  them  part.  Into 
their  romance,  into  their  world  of  little 
things,  their  joys  of  the  moment,  their 
happiness  of  the  hour,  had  suddenly  de- 
scended a  great  and  lasting  joy.  the  hap- 
piness of  the  great,  grave  issues  of  life — 
a  happiness  so  deep,  so  intense,  as  to 
thrill  them  with  a  sense  of  solemnity  and 
wonder.  Instead  of  being  the  end,  that 


Blix  333 

New  Tear's  Day  was  but  the  beginning 
— the  beginning  of  their  real  romance. 
All  the  fine,  virile,  masculine  energy  of 
him  was  aroused  and  rampant.  All  her 
sweet,  strong  womanliness  had  been  sud- 
denly deepened  and  broadened.  In  fine 
he  had  become  a  man,  and  she  a  woman. 
Youth,  life,  and  the  love  of  man  and 
woman,  the  strength  of  the  hills,  the 
depth  of  the  ocean,  and  the  beauty  of  the 
sky  at  sunset ;  that  was  what  the  New 
Year  had  brought  to  them. 

"It's  good-by,  dear,  isn't  it*  *  said 
Blix. 

But  Condy  would  not  have  it  so. 

*No,  no,"  he  told  her;  *no,  Blix;  nc 
matter  how  often  we  separate  after  this 
wonderful  New  Year's  Day,  no  matter 
how  far  we  are  apart,  we  two  shall  never, 
never  say  good-by." 

"  Oh,  you're  right,  you're  right !  *  she 
answered,  the  tears  beginning  to  shine 
in  her  little  dark-brown  eyes.  "No,  so 


334 

long  as  we  love  each  other,  nothing  mat- 
ters. There's  no  such  thing  as  distance 
for  us,  is  there  ?  Just  think,  you  will  be 
here  on  the  shores  of  tha  Pacific,  and  I 
on  the  shores  of  the  Atlantic,  but  the 
whole  continent  can't  come  between  us. " 

"And  we'll  be  together  again,  Blix," 
he  said;  "and  it  won't  be  very  long  now. 
Just  give  me  time — a  few  years  now." 

"But  so  long  as  we  love  each  other, 
time  won't  matter  either." 

"What  are  the  tears  for,  Blixy?"  he 
asked,  pressing  his  handkerchief  to  her 
cheek. 

"  Because  this  is  the  saddest  and  hap- 
piest day  of  my  life,"  she  answered. 
Then  she  pulled  from  him  with  a  little 
laugh,  adding:  "Look,  Condy,  you've 
dropped  your  letter.  You  pulled  it  out 
just  now  with  your  handkerchief." 

As  Condy  picked  it  up,  she  noted  the 
name  of  the  Centennial  Company  upon 
the  corner. 

"  It's  the  letter  I  got  with  the  manu- 


Blix  335 

script  of  the  novel  when  they  sent  it 
back,"  he  explained. 

"What  did  they  say?" 

"  Oh,  the  usual  thing.  I  haven't  read 
it  yet.  Here's  what  they  say."  He 
opened  it  and  read : 

"  We  return  to  you  herewith  the  MS.  of  your 
novel,  '  In  Defiance  of  Authority,  *  and  regret 
that  our  reader  does  not  recommend  it  as  availa- 
ble for  publication  at  present.  We  have,  how- 
ever, followed  your  work  with  considerable  in- 
terest, and  have  read  a  story  by  you,  copied  in 
one  of  our  exchanges,  under  the  title,  '  A  Vic- 
tory Over  Death, '  which  we  would  have  been 
glad  to  publish  ourselves,  had  you  given  us  the 
chance. 

"  Would  you  consider  the  offer  of  the  assistant 
editorship  of  our  Quarterly,  a  literary  and  criti- 
cal pamphlet,  that  we  publish  in  New  York, 
and  with  which  we  presume  you  are  familiar? 
We  do  not  believe  there  would  be  any  difficulty 
in  the  matter  of  financial  arrangements.  In  case 
you  should  decide  to  come  on,  we  enclose  R.  R. 
passes  via  the  A.  T.  &  S.  F.,  C.  &  A.,  and  New 
York  Central. 

"Very  truly, 

"THE  CENTENNIAL  PUBLISHINS  COMPANY, 

"NEWYOBK." 


336 

The  two  exchanged  glances.  But  Biix 
was  too  excited  to  speak,  and  could  only 
give  vent  to  a  little,  quivering,  choking 
sigh.  The  letter  was  a  veritable  god 
from  the  machine,  the  one  thing  lacking 
to  complete  their  happiness. 

"I  don't  know  how  this  looks  to  you* 
Condy  began,  trying  to  be  calm,  "but  it 
seems  to  me  that  this  is — that  this — 
this • 

But  what  they  said  then,  they  could 
never  afterward  remember.  The  golden 
haze  of  the  sunset  somehow  got  into 
their  recollection  of  the  moment,  and 
they  could  only  recall  the  fact  that  they 
had  been  gayer  in  that  moment  than  ever 
before  in  all  their  lives. 

Perhaps  as  gay  as  they  ever  were  to  be 
again.  They  began  to  know  the  differ- 
ence between  gayety  and  happiness. 
That  New  Year's  Day,  that  sunset, 
marked  for  them  an  end  and  a  beginning. 
It  was  the  end  of  their  gay,  irresponsible, 
hour  -  to  -  hour  life  of  the  past  three 


Elbe  337 

months;  and  it  was  the  beginning  of  a 
new  life,  whose  possibilities  of  sorrow 
and  of  trouble,  of  pleasure  and  of  happi- 
ness, were  greater  than  aught  they  had 
yet  experienced.  They  knew  this — they 
felt  it  instinctively,  as  with  a  common 
impulse  they  turned  and  looked  back 
upon  the  glowing  earth  and  sea  and  sky, 
the  breaking  surf,  the  beach,  the  distant, 
rime-encrusted,  ancient  fort — all  that 
scene  that  to  their  eyes  stood  for  the 
dear,  free,  careless  companionship  of  those 
last  few  months.  Their  new-found  hap- 
piness was  not  without  its  sadness  al- 
ready. All  was  over  now;  their  soli- 
tary walks,  the  long,  still  evenings  in 
the  little  dining-room  overlooking  the 
sleeping  city,  their  excursions  to  Luna's, 
their  afternoons  spent  in  the  golden  Chi- 
nese balcony,  their  mornings  on  the  lake, 
calm  and  still  and  hot.  Forever  and  for- 
ever they  had  said  good-by  to  that  life. 
Already  the  sunset  was  losing  its  glory. 
Then,  with  one  last  look,  they  turned 


338  Blix 

about  and  set  their  faces  from  it  to  the 
new  life,  to  the  East,  where  lay  the  Na- 
tion. Out  beyond  the  purple  bulwarks  of 
the  Sierras,  far  off,  the  great,  grim  world 
went  clashing  through  its  grooves — the 
world  that  now  they  were  to  know,  the 
world  that  called  to  them,  and  woke 
them,  and  roused  them.  Their  little  gay- 
eties  were  done;  the  life  of  little  things 
was  all  behind.  Now  for  the  future. 
The  sterner  note  had  struck — work  was 
to  be  done ;  that,  too,  the  New  Year  had 
brought  to  them — work  for  each  of  them, 
work  and  the  world  of  men. 

For  a  moment  they  shrank  from  it, 
loath  to  take  the  first  step  beyond  the 
confines  of  the  garden  wherein  they  had 
lived  so  joyously  and  learned  to  love 
each  other;  and  as  they  stood  there,  fac- 
ing the  gray  and  darkening  Eastern  sky, 
their  backs  forever  turned  to  the  sunset, 
Blix  drew  closer  to  him,  putting  her 
hand  in  his,  looking  a  little  timidly  into 
his  eyes.  But  his  arm  was  around  her 


Blix  339 

and  the  strong  young  force  that  looked 
into  her  eyes  from  his  gave  her  courage. 

"A  happy  New  Year,  dear,"  she  said. 

"A  very,  very  happy  New  Year,  Blix/ 
he  answered. 


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THE   CALL  OF   THE  WILD 

With  Illustrations  by  Philip  R.  Goodwin  and  Charles  Livingston  ttuii 
Decorated  by  Chirks  Edward  Hopper 

"A  tale  that  is  literature  .  .  .  the  unity  of  its  plan 
•ad  the  firmness  of  its  execution  are  equally  remarkable 
...  a  story  that  grips  the  reader  deeply.  It  is  art,  it 

is  literature It  stands  apart,  far  apart  with 

to  much  skill,  so  much  reasonableness,  so  much  convinc- 
ing logic." — N.  T.  Mail  and  Express. 

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in  the  construction  ...  a  wonderfully  perfect  bit  of 
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wholly  satisfying." — The  New  York  Sun. 

"  The  story  is  one  that  will  stir  the  blood  of  every 
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loves  the  open  or  adventure  for  its  own  sake  will  find 
'The  Call  of  the  Wild'  a  most  fascinating  book."— 
Tbe  Brtoklyn  Eagle. 

THE   SEA   WOLF 

Illustrated  by  W.  J.  Aylward 

«« This  story  surely  has  the  pure  Stevenson  ring,  the 
adventurous  glamour,  the  vertebrate  stoicism.  'Tis  surely 
the  story  of  the  making  of  a  man,  the  sculptor  being 
Captain  Larsen,  and  the  cl"y,  the  ease-loving,  well-to-do, 
half-drowned  man,  to  all  appearances  his  helpless  prey. ' ' 
— Critic. 

GROSSET    &    DUNLAP,    PUBLISHERS 
•»  C.  k  ft 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 

Los  Angeles 
This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below. 


OCT   21989 


MAR  19 


JUN16199Z 


UCLA  COL  LIB 
RECEIVED 


2  2  2005 


96  4978 


